-  •'■['.''i' 


R'  I   It  '     "  .■      it 


LIBRARY 

OF  THE 


University  of  California. 


Class 


EDUC. 
PSYCH. 


**•» " 


Hill. 


}i  1/ 


To 

THE  MEMORY  OP 

MY  WIFE, 

WHO  IRSPIRBD  ME  WITH  COURAGE  TO  DNDEBTAKE  THE  PEEPAEATION  OF 
THIS  ESSAY, 

AND  WHO  BY  HER  PEN  RENDERED  ITS  PREPARATION  POSSIBLE  J 

And  TO 
MY  DAUGHTER, 

WHO,  TAKING  THE  PEN  SNATCHED  BY  DEATH  FROM  HEB  MOTHEB, 

CONTINOED  HER  MOTHER'S  INSPIRATION, 

AND  ASSUMED  HER  MOTHER'S  TASK, 

Ef)eat  ^ages 
ABE   DEDICATED 


/'i  _L  o  A«i  O  i7 


"  The  view  of  things  hy  means  of  the  eyes  isfuU  of  decep- 
tion, as  also  is  that  through  the  ears  and  the  other  senses :  .  .  .  . 
but  that  it  is  the  brain  which  produces  the  perceptions  of  hear- 
ing, seeing,  and  sinelling,  and  that  from  these  come  memory 
and  opinion.''^ — Ph^do  of  Plato. 


OOIJfTElSrTS. 


PART  I. 

I  FAOB 

i^isions  common  to  human  experience.    definitions    .  5-19 

Cases  and  Comments 10-50 

>ft.ppARiVTUs  OF  Vision,  etc 50 

^Physiological  Analysis  of  Vision        ....  55 

Functions  of  the  Tubekcula  Quadeigemina  ...  68 

"^isuAL  Centre  of  the  Hemispheres     ....  104 

'    ^X'he  Frontal  Lobes 125 

VEffects  of  Habit,  Association,  Emotion,  Volition,  ex- 
pectant Attention 138 

Relations  of  the  Blood  with  the  Brain,  Metamor- 
phosis OF  Tissue,  Waste,  etc 153 

Effects  of  Drugs  : 

Digitalis 166 

Quinine 167 

Strychnine 168 

The  Bromides 169 

Opium 174 

Indian  Hemp  (Hashish) 179 

Alcohol 186 

Ether 190 

Influence  of  Disease 193 

Influence  of  Volition 201 

Remarkable  Cases 206,  209 

Visions  peculiar  to  Children 212 

Summary,  with  Illustrative  Figure       ....  218-223 


Tl  CONTENTS. 


PAEXn. 


PAGE 


Explanation  of  Visions.    Sight  not  a  Function  of  the 

Eyes,  but  of  this  Bkain 224 

Explanation  of  Cases  given  in  the  First  Part         .  227 

Case  communicated  by  Dk.  Weir  Mitchell  .       .       .  246 

Spinoza's  Vision 254 

Macbeth's  Vision  of  the  Dagger 256 

Visions  of  the  Dying 258 

Case  of  Dr. 262 

Case  from  the  "  New  Quarterly  Review  "       .        .  266 

Case  of  a  Child 274 

Case  of  Mrs. 276 

Visions  of  Sleep 279 

Case  of  exposed  Brain .  282 

Different  Varieties  of  Dreams 303 

Case  of  a  Medical  Student 305 

Lord  Brougham's  Vision    ...               ...  307 

Case  from  the  "  Psychological  Journal  "        .       .  313 

Case  from  Wundt .  315 


IJ^TEODUOTIOJN". 

By  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES,  M.  D. 


The  unfinished  essay  here  presented  to  the  public 
has  a  singular  and  quite  exceptional  interest.  When 
its  author  had  read  his  death  sentence,  and  knew  that 
the  malignant  disease  of  which  he  was  the  subject 
would  be  slow  in  its  work  and  involve  great  suffering, 
he  felt  that  he  must  have  something  to  occupy  his  mind 
and  turn  it  away  in  some  measure  from  dwelling  only 
on  the  tortures  of  his  body.  He  therefore  took  up  the 
study  of  a  question  in  which  he  had  long  been  inter- 
ested and  made  it  his  daily  occupation  to  write  upon  it. 
So  long  as  his  strength  lasted  sufficiently,  he  wrote 
with  his  own  hand.  After  this  he  employed  another 
to  write  at  his  dictation. 

This  disease  had  already  made  deep  inroads  upon  his 
constitution,  and  he  was  every  day  becoming  more  de- 
pendent on  the  ministrations  of  those  about  him,  when 
his  wife,  who  had  been  his  nurse,  his  amanuensis,  his 
patient  and  tender  companion,  was  seized  with  sudden 
illness  which  after  a  few  days  ended  in  her  death.  It 
is  not  often  that  a  human  heart  is  tried  at  once  with 
the  pangs  of  bodily  suffering  and  the  agony  of  grief 
as  his  was  at  this  distressing  period.     But  he  bore  up 


Viii  INTRODUCTION. 

against  it  all  with  a  courage  and  serenity  which  it 
seemed  as  if  nothing  could  subdue.  After  a  time  he 
returned  to  his  work.  His  mind  had  lost  nothing  of  its 
discriminating  force,  his  language  nothing  of  its  clear- 
ness. Again  I  found  him  busy  with  his  manuscripts 
when  I  entered  his  chamber  at  my  frequent  friendly 
visits.  He  became  again  interested  in  the  trains  of 
thought  he  had  been  following.  He  would  hand  me  a 
page  or  two  of  his  manuscript  for  criticism,  or  bring  up 
some  special  point  for  my  consideration.  All  this  time 
the  deadly  internal  disease  was  feeding  on  his  life,  and 
not  an  hour  was  free  from  suffering  ercept  when  his 
pains  were  lulled  into  temporary  quiet  by  the  use  of 
narcotics.  At  length  the  pen  dropped  from  his  hand, 
the  mind  ceased  from  its  labors,  he  lingered  a  little 
longer  in  a  state  of  being  that  was  divided  between 
anguish  and  stupor,  and  the  end  long  wished  for  came 
at  last. 

Throughout  his  long  and  wearing  illness  he  had 
watched  himself  as  he  would  have  watched  one  of  his 
patients.  He  knew  what  was  almost  certainly  to  be 
the  issue  of  his  disease,  and  had  known  it  from  a  very 
early  period.  Yet  he  did  not  speak  of  himself  as  if  he 
knew  his  case  to  be  hopeless.  It  seemed  to  me  some- 
times as  if  he  felt  that  it  was  not  courteous  to  his  vis- 
itor to  appear  in  the  attitude  of  a  condemned  man,  and 
that  he  spoke  of  the  possibility  that  the  disease  might 
not  prove  malignant  in  its  nature  rather  to  make  his 
guest  feel  more  cheerfully  about  him  than  because  he 
himself  indulged  in  any  vain  illusion. 

The  essay  bears  evidence  of  the  philosophical  state 


INTRODUCTION,  ix 

of  mind  in  which  it  was  written.  I  have  been  sur- 
prised to  find  how  little  correction  of  any  kind  it  re- 
quired. From  the  first  page  to  the  last  it  is  clear, 
connected,  without  a  trace  of  any  disturbing  influence. 

A  strange  thought  suggests  itself,  which  is  perhaps 
too  fanciful  to  be  mentioned  in  this  connection.  I  can- 
not help  being  reminded  of  the  Indian  brave's  deatli- 
song,  in  which  he  calmly  defies  his  tormentors.  Socrates 
was  about  to  die  when  he  discoursed  in  those  imperish- 
able words  which  the  Phasdo  records  for  us,  but  he  was 
not  in  bodily  torture.  This  serene  disquisition  was  writ- 
ten in  hours  of  distress  which  were  intervals  of  agony. 
No  stoic  of  the  woods,  no  philosopher  of  antiquity  ever 
faced  his  doom  with  a  more  unshaken  constancy  and 
courage,  with  a  nobler  tranquillity,  than  the  writer  of 
this  essay.  Had  it  no  other  claim  upon  the  reader, 
it  would  always  have  an  interest  as  the  mental  legacy 
of  one  who  was  much  honored  and  loved,  and  as  a  les- 
son of  manhood  too  precious  to  be  forgotten. 

Although  the  essay  is  left  unfinished,  it  should  not 
be  called  a  fragment.  It  would  not  be  difiicult  to  com- 
plete it  by  the  addition  of  a  very  moderate  number  of 
pages.  It  was  left  by  Dr.  Clarke  to  my  decision  what 
disposition  should  be  made  of  the  manusci'ipt.  I  had 
heard  many  portions  of  it,  and  discussed  many  points 
involved  in  it  with  him.  But  I  read  it  all  over  care- 
fully, and  had  no  hesitation  in  deciding  that,  imperfect 
as  it  was,  it  should  be  given  to  the  public.  I  did  not 
look  up  the  literature  of  the  subject  to  see  for  myself 
just  how  far  Dr.  Clarke's  ideas  had  been  anticipated,  or 
how  far  they  were  in  opposition  to  those  of  any  other 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

physiologist  or  psychologist.  .  I  made  no  changes  of 
any  importance,  and  no  additions  whatever.  The  man- 
uscript was  singularly  free  from  errors  and  corrections, 
both  that  portion  of  it  written  with  his  own  hand,  and 
the  parts  which  were  copied  for  him,  and  ray  work  was 
hardly  needed  in  addition  to  that  of  the  corrector  of 
the  press. 

I  have  made  out  a  table  of  contents  which  will  per- 
haps be  a  sufficient  guide  to  the  general  and  the  scien- 
tific reader,  in  looking  after  what  sf)ecially  interests 
them.  But  I  will  indicate  a  few  of  the  pages  which 
will  be  found  more  particularly  attractive  to  most  of 
those  who  take  up  the  essay. 

As  Dr.  Clarke  resolves  so  large  a  part  of  mental 
action  into  pure  automatism,  it  is  only  fair  to  remem- 
ber these  words  of  his,  showing  that  he  recognized 
something  beyond  this.  He  is  speaking  of  the  visions 
of  the  dying. 

"  Probably  all  such  visions  as  these  are  automatic. 
But  yet,  who,  believing  in  God  and  personal  immortal- 
ity, as  the  writer  rejoices  in  doing,  will  dare  to  say  ab- 
solutely all  ?  Will  dare  to  assert  there  is  no  possible 
exception  ?  "  (p.  272.)  It  must  be  borne  in  mind, 
too,  that  he  recognized  the  "  ego  "  as  distinct  from  '■  his 
engine,"  the  bodily  mechanism  (p.  168),  and  that  he 
speaks  of  the  will  as  a  prinium  mobile,  —  an  initial 
force,  —  a  cause."      (p.  211.) 

Ingenious  and  interesting  as  are  the  speculative  por- 
tions of  the  essay,  the  numerous  hitherto  unrecorded 
cases  will  perhaps  be  found  its  most  permanently  val- 
uable contribution  to  science.     Physiological  opinions. 


INTRODUCTION.  xi 

and  even  commonly  accepted  results,  may  be  rejected  as 
unsatisfactory  by  another  generation  of  experimenters 
and  theorists ;  but  well  recorded  cases,  drawn  up  by 
trustworthy  witnesses,  do  not  lose  their  value  with  the 
lapse  of  time.  Such  are  many  of  these  which  are  pre- 
sented to  the  reader.  I  may  venture  to  add  that  I  my- 
self knew  personally  the  subjects  of  the  cases  recorded 
on  pages  39,  262,  and  277,  and  have  heard  a  minute  and 
circumstantial  account  of  each  of  these  cases  from  the 
lips  of  Dr.  Clarke  himself.  With  reference  to  the  last 
case,  Dr.  Clarke  mentioned  a  circumstance  to  me  not 
alluded  to  in  the  essay.  At  the  very  instant  of  disso- 
lution, it  seemed  to  him,  as  he  sat  at  the  dying  lady's 
bedside,  that  there  arose  "■  something  "  —  an  undefined 
yet  perfectly  apprehended  somewhat,  to  which  he  could 
give  no  name,  but  which  was  like  a  departing  presence. 
I  should  have  listened  to  this  story  less  receptively,  it 
may  be,  but  for  the  fact  that  I  had  heard  the  very 
same  experience,  almost  in  the  very  same  words,  from 
the  lips  of  one  whose  evidence  is  eminently  to  be  relied 
upon.  With  the  last  breath  of  the  parent  she  was 
watching,  she  had  the  consciousness  that  "  something  " 
arose,  as  if  the  "  spirit "  had  made  itself  cognizable  at 
the  moment  of  quitting  its  mortal  tenement.  The  co- 
incidence in  every  respect  of  these  two  experiences  has 
seemed  to  me  to  justify  their  mention  in  this  place. 

The  facts  relating  to  the  frequency  of  visions  in 
children,  and  their  power  of  summoning  them  up  by  an 
exercise  of  will,  p.  212,  also  deserve  special  attention. 

Whatever  Dr.  Clarke  has  to  say  concerning  the  ac- 
tion of  drugs  is  peculiarly  entitled  to  confidence,  as  he 


sai  INTRODUCTION. 

was  a  most  diligent  student  of  their  various  modes  of 
action,  and  had  a  great  experience  witli  tliem,  more  es- 
pecially in  all  that  relates  to  the  use  and  abuse  of  nar- 
cotics and  stimulants. 

But  there  is  one  case  recorded  which  I  venture  to 
say  no  human  being  who  draws  the  breath  of  life  can 
read  without  profound  interest.  It  is  that  which  may 
be  found  on  page  262.  It  is  a  deep-sea  sounding  of 
the  dark  abyss  where  each  of  us  all  is  to  sink  out  of 
sight  sooner  or  later.  The  wise  physician  is  on  friendly 
terms  with  death.  It  is  as  much  a  jihysiological  ne- 
cessity as  life,  and  though,  like  the  visit  of  an  officer 
of  justice,  its  entrance  must  not  be  allowed  without  a 
proper  warrant,  yet  that  warrant  is  sure  to  be  issued 
at  last.  The  wonderful  calmness  of  the  observed  and 
the  observer,  in  this  almost  if  not  quite  unique  case, 
impart  a  perfectly  scientific  character  to  this  observa- 
tion of  an  event  which  is  commonly  yielded  passively 
to  the  empire  of  emotion.  Many,  who  through  fear  of 
death  have  been  all  their  life-time  subject  to  bondage, 
will,  I  believe,  find  more  consolation  in  this  recital  than 
in  almost  any  other  human  record. 

I  will  only  add  a  single  remark  for  the  scientific 
reader.  The  expressions  "  cell-groups,"  "  polarizing 
the  cells,"  and  some  other  terms  must  be  accepted, 
rather  as  a  convenient  form  of  signifying  an  unknown 
change  of  condition,  than  as  intended  to  be  taken  lit- 
erally. And  I  may  say  in  conclusion  that  the  whole 
essay  must  be  read  not  with  an  over-critical  spirit,  but 
in  the  constant  recollection  of  the  mental  conflict  going 
on  during  the  long  agony  in  the  course  of  which  it  was 
written 


INTRODUCTION.  xiii 

I  subjoin,  at  the  request  of  his  nearest  relative,  the 
obituary  notice  which  was  furnished  by  myself  to  the 
"  Boston  Daily  Advertiser."  A  few  very  trifling  al- 
terations only  have  been  made,  and  the  reader  will,  I 
trust,  overlook  any  repetitions  of  what  has  been  said 
in  the  preceding  pages. 

EDWARD  HAlVniOND  CLARKE. 

BOEN,    FEBRUARY   2,    1820  ;     DIED,    NOVEMBER  30,    1877. 

The  death  of  Dr.  Clarke  has  not  fallen  upon  our 
community  as  a  surprise.  It  has  long  been  known  that 
he  was  suffering  from  a  disease  so  nearly  hopeless,  as 
to  leave  scarcely  a  possibility  of  its  retracing  its  steady 
progress  toward  a  fatal  issue.  For  the  last  three  years 
he  has  been  unable  to  practice  his  profession.  A  year 
ago  he  might  be  met  occasionally  walking  languidly  in 
the  Public  Garden  ;  for  some  months  he  has  been  con- 
fined to  his  chamber,  and  for  the  past  few  weeks  to  his 
bed.  The  internal  disease  which  was  wasting  his  life 
was  full  of  anguish.  He  was  never  free  from  pain 
except  when  under  the  influence  of  anodynes,  and  from 
time  to  time  was  racked  with  agony.  It  is  a  great  sor- 
row to  lose  him,  but  all  who  know  what  he  has  been 
enduring  must  be  thankful  that  he  is  released  from  his 
bondage  to  suffering.  The  tributes  which  have  been 
rendered  to  his  memory  might  seem  to  render  unneces- 
sary the  words  which  can  do  little  more  than  repeat 
what  has  been  so  well  said  already.  I  need  only  refer 
to  the  full  and  very  interesting  sketch  of  his  life  in  the 
"  Evening  Transcript,"  and   to  the  eloquent  discourses 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

delivered  from  the  pulpit,  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Ware  and 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Bartol,  which  the  public  has  had  the  priv- 
ilege of  reading.  But  as  one  of  the  friends  who  have 
Been  him  often  and  intimately  during  the  years  of  his 
morttal  illness,  I  cannot  forbear  to  add  my  testimony 
to  that  of  others,  who  have  watched  him  through  the 
course  of  that  protracted  martyrdom. 

The  antecedents  of  a  man  so  distinguished  by  his 
high  qualities  will  always  be  looked  at  with  interest. 
Almost  invariably  some  elements  of  the  mental  and 
moral  traits  which  marked  him  will  be  found  in  the 
line  of  ancestry  from  w^hich  he  is  descended.  Dr. 
Clarke's  father,  the  Rev.  Pitt  Clarke,  was  one  of  those 
excellent  New  England  clergymen,  whose  blood  seems 
to  carry  the  scholarly  and  personal  virtues  with  it  to 
their  descendants,  oftentimes  for  successive  generations. 
From  a  brief  account  of  his  life,  written  by  himself, 
and  a  sketch  by  his  son,  the  late  Manlius  Stimson 
Clarke,  it  is  easy  to  draw  the  portrait  of  the  good  pas- 
tor who,  for  forty-two  years,  ministered  to  the  people 
of  the  pleasant  village  of  Norton,  Massachusetts.  His 
simple,  industrious  habits,  for  he  worked  on  his  farm 
as  well  as  preached  to  the  farmers  round  him,  his  creed 
or  "  Confession  of  Faith,"  which  he  left  as  a  legacy  to 
his  flock,  a  creed  devout,  humane,  with  a  stronger  flavor 
of  Matthew's  gospel  than  of  Paul's  epistles,  but  refer- 
ring all  to  the  "  sacred  volume "  as  "  the  sole  rule  of 
his  faith,  preaching  and  practice  "  ;  the  love  and  confi- 
dence with  which  he  was  regarded  in  the  community, — 
these  would  give  the.  outline  which  the  reverence  and 
affection  of  his  children  filled  up  with  their  remem- 
brances. 


INTRODUCTION.  xv 

We  are  apt  to  look,  perhaps,  with  even  more  interest 
upon  the  mothers  of  those  who  have  become  justly 
distinguished  and  honored.  Dr.  Clarke's  mother,  Mary- 
Jones  Stimson  before  marriage,  second  wife  of  his 
father,  was  one  of  those  women  who  live  and  die 
known  to  but  a  few  persons  comparatively,  but  who 
are  remembered  by  those  few  as  more  to  be  loved  and 
admired  than  many  whose  names  are  familiar,  and  not 
undeservedly  so,  to  the  public.  She  was  endowed  with 
noble  and  attractive  personal  qualities,  was  very  fond 
of  literature,  and  left  many  poems,  some  of  which  are 
preserved  in  a  small  memorial  volume  and  show  a  cul- 
tivated taste  as  well  as  warm  affections.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  read  the  lines  "  To  a  Son  in  College,"  or  "  A 
Prayer,"  without  feeling  that  such  a  mother  was  worthy 
to  be  rewarded  with  such  children  as  God  gave  her. 

Edward  Hammond  Clarke,  her  fourth  and  youngest 
child,  was  born  in  Norton,  February  2, 1820,  graduated 
at  Harvard  College  in  1841,  took  his  medical  degree 
at  Philadelphia  in  1846,  travelled  extensively  in  Europe 
with  the  eldest  son  of  the  late  Mr.  Abbott  Lawrence, 
and  established  himself  at  length  in  Boston,  where  he 
acquired  and  maintained  a  leading  position  among  his 
contemporaries.  In  1855  he  was  chosen  Professor  of 
Materia  Medica  in  the  medical  school  of  Harvard  Uni- 
versity, succeeding  to  the  very  distinguished  Dr.  Jacob 
Bigelow.  This  office  he  resigned  in  1872,  and  was  at 
once  chosen  a  member  of  the  Board  of  Overseers  of  the 
University.  He  still  continued  in  active  practice  until 
assailed  by  the  disease  which  ended  in  his  death  on  the 
30th  of  November  just  past. 


XVI  INTRODUCTION. 

Returning  to  his  early  history,  we  find  that  the  state 
of  his  health  obliged  him  to  leave  college  before  the 
second  term  of  the  senior  year,  so  that  he  could  not 
take  any  part  at  commencement,  but  that  he  stood  first 
in  his  class  at  the  time  of  leavjpg.  He  had  intended 
studying  divinity,  but  circumstances  changed  his  course, 
and  he  adopted  the  profession  in  which  he  attained 
great  eminence,  as  he  would  have  done  in  any  other 
which  he  might  have  chosen.  He  would  have  been  a 
very  learned  and  acute  theologian.  Those  who  have 
heard  him  speak  upon  questions  before  legislative  com- 
mittees cannot  doubt  that  he  would  have  been  a  pow- 
erful advocate.  Calm  in  manner  as  in  mind,  clear  in 
statement,  looking  at  subjects  in  a  broad  way  and  from 
many  sides,  yet  shrewd  to  see  on  which  side  lay  the 
truth  he  was  in  search  of,  he  would  have  probably 
found  his  way  from  the  bar  to  the  bench,  and  left  the 
name  of  a  wise,  if  not  of  a  great,  judge  upon  our 
records. 

No  one  ought  to  regret  the  choice  which  gave  such 
a  helper  to  lighten  the  burden  of  human  infirmities. 
He  had  all  the  qualities  which  go  to  the  making  of  a 
master  in  the  art  of  healing  ;  "  science  "  enough,  but 
not  so  much  in  the  shape  of  minute,  unprofitable  acqui- 
sition as  to  make  him  near-sighted ;  very  great  indus- 
try ;  love  of  his  profession  and  entire  concentration  of 
his  faculties  upon  it,  with  those  mental  qualities  already 
spoken  of  as  fitting  him  for  other  duties,  but  which 
equally  fitted  him  to  form  a  judicial  opinion  in  the 
silent  court-room  where  nature  is  trying  one  of  her  dif- 
ficult cases. 


INTRODUCTION.  xvil 

Such  a  man  is  pretty  sure  to  find  his  place  in  any 
great  centre  of  population.  But  to  be  recognized  as 
standing  at  the  head  of  the  medical  profession  in  a 
large  city,  or  an  extensive  district,  implies  a  previous 
long  and  arduous  struggle,  at  least  in  one  who  comes 
unheralded  and  unknown.  Every  step  of  such  a  man's 
ascent  must  be  made,  like  an  Alpine  climber's  in  the 
glacier,  in  the  icy  steep  of  indifference ;  fortunate  for 
him  if  he  does  not  slip  or  is  not  crushed  before  he 
reaches  the  summit,  where  there  is  hardly  room  for 
more  than  one  at  a  time. 

It  was  in  such  a  position  that  Dr.  Clarke  stood  when 
he  felt  the  first  symptoms  of  the  disease  to  which  he 
was  to  fall  a  victim.  He  cannot  have  been  suffering 
very  long  from  it  when  he  consulted  one  of  our  most 
skilful  surgeons,  and  learned  the  too  probably  malig- 
nant nature  of  the  affection.  There  was  a  chance,  per- 
haps, that  the  symptoms  might  be  interpreted  otherwise 
than  as  a  certain  warrant  of  death.  For  the  greater 
part  of  the  time,  while  the  writer  was  an  habitual  vis- 
itor to  his  sick  chamber,  he  was  in  the  habit,  if  he 
referred  to  his  disease  at  all,  of  speaking  as  if  he  had 
a  chance  of  recovery.  It  was  only  a  few  weeks  before 
his  death  that  he  spoke  of  the  end  as  rapidly  approach- 
ing, and  then  said  that  the  trial  of  parting  with  life 
had  been  long  over,  even  from  the  time  when  he  had 
first  sought  the  surgeon's  opinion.  One  sleepless  night, 
in  which  he  walked  his  chamber  alone  with  his  fatal 
sentence ;  a  letter  preparing  the  one  nearest  to  him 
for  the  inevitable  approaching  future ;  after  that  strug- 
gle he  felt  as  if  the  darkest  passage  of  the  valley  of  the 


XVlll  INTRODUCTION. 

shadow  of  death  had  been  left  behind  him,  and  walked 
serenely  forward  from  that  day  to  the  end. 

If  all  who  knew  him  and  leaned  upon  him  as  their 
cherished  and  trusted  adviser ;  if  all  who  valued  him 
and  loved  him  as  a  friend ;  if  all  who  felt  his  impor- 
tance as  an  active  and  wise  and  public-spirited  citizen ; 
if  all  whom  his  well-weighed  and  soberly  stated  opin- 
ions on  educational  and  hygienic  subjects  have  influ- 
enced, both  at  home  and  abroad  ;  if  all  the  pupils  who 
have  sought  his  guidance  in  the  important  branch  which 
he  invested  with  so  much  attraction,  as  well  as  made 
affluent  with  fresh  instruction, — if  all  these  were  to, 
record  their  praises  and  their  regrets,  the  volume  must 
be  ample  that  would  hold  his  eulogy. 

There  is  only  space  for  a  brief  notice  of  some  of  his 
excellences  in  different  directions.  And  first  of  all,  as  a 
physician.  It  may  be  asked,  what  are  the  points  of 
superiority  which  make  the  great  practitioner  ?  It  is 
not  the  power  of  making  a  minute  diagnosis  ;  in  other 
words,  of  naming  and  localizing  a  disease  with  the 
greatest  nicety.  It  is  not  the  power  of  displaying,  dif- 
ferentiating, and  describing  the  efifects  of  disease  as 
shown  in  the  degenerated  organs  which  once  belonged 
to  a  patient.  Skill  in  these  two  branches  is  often  found 
in  the  same  individuals,  and  is  always  justly  and  greatly 
to  be  valued  ;  but  one  may  be  a  skilful  interpreter  of 
the  signs  of  disease,  and  an  expert  with  the  scalpel  and 
the  microscope,  and  yet  very  inferior  as  a  practitioner 
to  another  who  is  far  less  instructed  than  himself  in 
both  of  these  departments.  Given  a  fair  acquaintance 
with  the  meaning  of  the  ordinary  signs  and  symptoms  of 


INTRODUCTION.  xix 

disease,  and  the  alterations  which  give  rise  to  them,  the 
best  practitioner  is  the  one  who  seizes  most  readily  and 
certainly  the  vital  conditions  and  constitutional  tenden- 
cies of  the  patient,  and  shows  most  sagacity,  tact,  and 
fertility  of  resources  in  dealing  with  the  varying  states 
of  his  mind  and  body,  whether  or  not  he  has  occasion 
to  use  special  remedies  for  special  purposes,  as  every 
routine  practitioner  is  capable  of  doing.  Here  it  was 
that  Dr.  Clarke  showed  his  mastery.  He  read  his 
patient's  mind  as  every  man  must  who  would  control 
another ;  he  took  in  the  whole  bodily  condition  and  its 
changes  by  careful  examinations,  scrupulously  recorded 
after  his  visits  for  the  day  were  finished  ;  and  he  knew, 
as  very  few  practitioners  really  know,  what  remedies 
could  and  could  not  do,  —  but  especially  what  they 
could  do  in  the  way  of  alleviating  sufEeriug  and  shorten- 
ing or  arresting  curable  diseases. 

As  an  instructor  Dr.  Clarke  was  the  admiration  of  his 
pupils.  His  plan  of  teaching  therapeutics  was  his  own, 
and  he  not  only  spoke  with  authority,  but  made  a  sub- 
ject commonly  thought  among  the  least  interesting  of 
a  medical  course  a  great  centre  of  attraction  to  the 
students  of  the  medical  school.  In  the  councils  of  the 
Faculty  his  opinion  was  always  listened  to  with  respect, 
as  coming  from  one  of  its  wisest  and  most  fair-minded 
members. 

As  a  writer  he  published  no  voluminous  work.  He 
contributed  various  articles  on  the  Materia  Medica  to 
the  "  New  American  Cyclopaedia."  In  conjunction 
with  Dr.  Robert  Amory,  he  published,  in  1872,  a  small 
volume  on  the  physiological  and  therapeutical  action  of 


XX  INTRODUCTION. 

the  bromides  of  potassium  and  ammonium.  In  1876  he 
published,  under  the  title  of  "  Practical  Medicine,"  a 
brief  and  clear  account  of  the  progress  of  medical 
knowledge  during  the  century  just  finished.  But  noth- 
ing that  came  from  his  pen  has  been  so  universally  read 
as  his  essay  entitled  "  Sex  in  Education."  This  publi- 
cation was  like  a  trumpet-call  to  battle,  and  started  a 
contest  which  is  not  yet  over.  Dr.  Clarke  received  a 
great  number  of  letters  and  printed  communications 
confirming  his  views,  and  was  made  the  object  of  many 
attacks,  which  he  bore  with  perfect  equanimity,  feeling 
that  he  had  honestly  given  the  results  of  his  experience, 
having  only  the  good  of  the  community  in  view.  A 
second  essay,  "  The  Building  of  a  Brain,"  followed  up 
the  first,  with  various  important  propositions  bearing 
on  education,  and  was  widely  read,  but  provoked  less 
sharp  antagonism.  He  wrote  a  valuable  letter  on  the 
park  question,  and  on  all  subjects  relating  to  public 
health  his  opinion  was  looked  to  as  of  very  high 
authority. 

During  the  confinement  of  his  last  illness  he  occu- 
pied himself  much  with  reading,  and  in  the  later  part 
of  the  time,  until  his  strength  entirely  failed  him,  with 
writing,  chiefly  on  points  of  psychology  which  particu- 
larly interested  him.  He  seemed  to  enjoy  discussing 
nice  and  difiicult  questions  with  some  of  his  visitors, 
and  it  was  pleasant,  following  his  lead,  to  see  him  for- 
get himself  for  a  little  while  in  the  analysis  of  menta\ 
operations,  in  which  he  showed  a  power  of  steady  anA 
penetrating  thought  which  would  have  given  him  a 
name  in  metaphysical   speculation  if  he  had  concen 


INTRODUCTION.  xxi 

trated  his  efforts  in  that  direction.  He  had  the  great 
advantage  of  having  studied  the  working  of  the  mind 
under  various  exceptional  conditions,  and  had  many 
strange  things  to  tell  from  his  own  experience,  all  of 
which  he  was  disposed  to  account  for  without  invoking 
any  of  the  vulgar  machinery  commonly  called  in  to  ex- 
plain such  phenomena. 

His  constitution  was  gradually  yielding  to  his  dis- 
ease. The  end  which  he  had  long  foreseen  as  probable 
was  growing  more  and  more  certain,  if  possible,  and, 
of  course,  coming  nearer  and  nearer.  What  affection 
could  do  to  help  him  bear  his  anguish  was  done  for  him 
tenderly  and  lovingly  by  his  devoted  wife  and  daughter, 
and  the  friends  who  were  anxious  to  render  their  ser- 
vices. In  this  strait  of  a  dependent,  suffering,  and  fail- 
ing life,  the  wife,  to  whom  he  looked  for  daily  care  and 
solace,  who  was  to  watch  his  decline  and  be  with  him 
in  the  last  hour  of  earthly  companionship,  was  seized 
with  sudden  illness,  and  died  after  a  few  days,  leaving 
the  dying  husband,  who  had  thought  to  have  gone  long 
before  her. 

Under  this  sudden  and  overwhelming  grief,  with  pain 
as  his  constant  companion,  with  death  always  in  full 
view,  he  bore  himself  with  a  steadfastness,  a  perfect 
quiet  of  aspect  and  manner  which  showed  at  once  hrs 
self-command  and  his  self-submission  to  the  orderings 
of  that  Providence  in  which  he  trusted.  His  rule  in 
this  world  had  been  duty ;  his  faith  in  looking  forward 
to  the  future  was  simple,  untrammelled  by  mechanical 
forms  or  formulae,  but  having  as  its  inmost  principle  the 
love  which  casteth  out  fear. 


xxii  INTRODUCTION. 

How  many  families  there  are  in  this  community  that 
feel  as  if  they  could  hardly  live  without  the  counsels  of 
this  good,  skilful,  wise  physician,  or  die  in  peace  with- 
out having  had  all  his  resources  called  upon  to  keep 
them  breathing  this  sweet  air  of  life  a  little  longer! 
How  many  will  feel  that  no  one  will  ever  read  their 
conditions  of  mind  and  body  as  he  did,  or  give  himself 
up  so  unreservedly  to  the  exactions  of  their  too  fre- 
quently selfish  suffering,  or  bring  into  the  sick  chamber 
a  look  so  tranquillizing  and  assuring  !  Time  will  teach 
them  that  the  art,  which  is  long,  does  not  perish  with 
the  fleeting  life  of  its  wisest  practitioner ;  that  others, 
many  of  them,  perhaps,  his  own  former  pupils,  will 
deserve  and  gain  their  confidence ;  that  the  affections, 
seeking  new  objects  when  the  old  are  torn  away,  will 
surely  find  them ;  but  to  many  the  best  eulogy  of  the 
best  physician  who  comes  after  him  will  be  so  long  as 
they  live,  that  he  recalls  to  their  memory  the  skill, 
the  wisdom,  the  character  of  Doctor  Edward  Clarke. 


Yisioisrs. 


Visions  have  always  held,  and  still  hold,  a 
place  among  the  experiences  of  mankind.  From 
the  time  that  Abraham  had  a  vision  of  angels  in 
his  tent,  to  the  latest  manifestation  of  modern 
spiritualism  and  spirit  seeing  ;  among  all  nations, 
savage,  civilized,  and  enlightened ;  in  all  classes, 
whether  cultivated  or  ignorant ;  and  in  every 
phase  of  human  development,  orient^  and  occi- 
dental, Pagan,  Christian,  and  Mohammedan,  there 
have  been  those  who  saw,  or  who  pretended  to 
see,  visions.  Visions  have  not  only  been  recog- 
nized as  a  part  of  the  mysterious  phenomena  of 
disease,  but  of  the  equally  mysterious  phenomena 
of  health.  The  hearty  and  strong,  as  well  as  the 
morbid  and  ill,  have  been  visited  by  them.  Nec- 
romancers and  charlatans,  seers  and  prophets,  en- 
thusiasts and  sober  minded  people,  those  who 
have  deluded,  and  those  who  have  inspired,  the 
race,  have,  with  varying  degrees  of  earnestness 
and  success,  supported  their  claims  to  reverence 
or  obedience,  by  the  assertion  that  they  could  see 
what  was  hidden  from  the  eyes  of  others. 


6  VISIONS. 

When  we  consider  that  such  very  different  per- 
sonalities as  Elijah  and  St.  Paul,  Buddha  and  Mo- 
hammed, St.  Francis  d'  Assisi  and  Swedenborg, 
Joan  of  Arc,  Luther  and  Bunyan,  Indian  Med- 
icine Men  and  Oriental  Hakems,  Convulsionists 
of  St.  Medard,  inmates  of  asylums  for  the  insane, 
invalids,  elevated  by  the  ecstasies  of  hysteria,  and 
persons  sunk  in  articulo  mortis,  opium  and  hash- 
ish eaters,  alcohol  drinkers,  and  others,  have  all 
seen  visions,  it  seems  as  if  such  phenomena  must 
be  among  the  commonest  experiences  of  human- 
ity, and  of  a  character  which  ought  not  to  pro- 
duce amazement  or  incredulity.  But  such  is  not 
the  case.  Visions  are  regarded,  and  naturally 
regarded,  not  only  by  scientific  and  thoughtful 
people,  but  by  the  common  sense  portion  of  the 
community,  very  much  like  ghosts,  as  unrealities. 
A  few  exceptions  may  be  made  in  the  case  of 
apostles  and  teachers,  but  the  vast  majority  of 
visions  are  classed  among  the  delusions,  vagaries, 
and  fancies  of  mankind,  or  among  the  inexplicable 
phenomena  of  disease.  Yet  it  must  be  admitted, 
after  acknowledging  to  their  fullest  extent  the 
obscurity,  mystery,  and  charlatanism  which  covers 
up  and  infects  the  matter  we  are  considering,  that 
the  denial  of  a  substantial  and  real  foundation  to 
the  phenomena  of  visions  must  be  accompanied 
with  a  certain  reserve.  Sometimes  the  incredu- 
lity of  the  most  skeptical  has  been  staggered  by 
the  statements  of  those,  whose  mental  soundness 
and  recognized  honesty  precluded  the  suspicion  of 


VISIONS.  7 

deception  or  insanity;  but  these  exceptional  in- 
stances have  usually  been  summarily  disposed  of, 
by  remanding  them  to  the  region  of  the  myste- 
rious and  unknowable.  Now  and  then,  some  san- 
guine or  philosophic  hearer  of  such  statements  has 
returned  a  doubtful  hope  that  science  would  yet 
penetrate  the  mystery  that  enveloped  them,  and 
arrive  at  an  adequate  solution  of  them,  and  per- 
haps has  accompanied  his  hope  with  the  vague  as- 
sertion that  — 

"  There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth,  Horatio, 
Than  are  dreamt  of  in  your  philosophy." 

The  persistence  with  which  the  truthfulness  of 
visions  has  been  aflEirmed,  at  all  times,  every- 
where, and  by  such  a  variety  of  individuals,  is  it- 
self a  significant  fact,  and  one  that  deserves  con- 
sideration. It  implies  that  below  the  nonsense, 
charlatanism,  fanaticism,  ignorance,  and  mystery, 
uj^on  which  visions  are  largely  built  up,  there  is 
somewhere  a  substratum  of  truth,  if  we  could 
only  get  at  it.  Such  a  growth  coidd  never  have 
appeared,  nor  would  it  continue  to  appear,  if  its 
roots  did  not  draw  their  nutriment  from  some- 
thing more  invigorating  than  fancy  or  deception. 
It  must  be  admitted,  moreover,  that  the  question 
of  the  possible  occurrence  of  visions  is  one  of 
great  interest  and  importance.  Its  interest  lies 
in  its  intimate  connection  with  the  attractive  and 
shadowy  territorj^  —  the  terra  incognita,  and  de- 
batable  ground  —  which   stretches   between   the 


8  VISIONS. 

body  and  mind,  and  which  connects  this  woi'ld 
"with  the  next.  Its  importance  lies  in  the  fact 
that  its  sohition,  if  a  solution  is  possible,  would 
not  only  throw  light  upon  some  of  the  intricate 
and  vexed  problems  of  psychology,  but  would  aid 
materially  in  dissipating  many  popular  supersti- 
tions and  widely  spread  delusions. 

That  there  have  been,  and  are,  many  persons 
who  solemnly  assert  that  they  have  seen  visions, 
as  well  as  dreamed  dreams,  is  acknowledged. 
The  question  which  it  is  proposed  to  investigate 
here  is  not  whether  such  assertions  are  made,' 
but  upon  what  they  are  founded.  Are  visions, 
whether  occurring  in  the  sound  or  unsound,  ex- 
cluding, of  course,  necromancy  and  cheating,  pure 
figments  of  the  imagination,  or  are  they  facts, 
resting  upon  a  physiological  basis  ;  and  if  the  lat- 
ter, what  are  the  conditions,  .and  what  is  the 
mechanism  of  their  production  ?  If  any  satisfac- 
tory answer  to  these  inquiries  can  be  given,  it 
must  be  obtained,  not  from  psychology  or  theol- 
ogy, but  from  physiology  and  pathology ;  not 
from  metaphysicians  or  priests,  but  from  physi- 
cians and  physiologists.  Approaching  the  subject 
upon  its  physiological  side,  and  supplementing 
physiological  investigation  by  clinical  observa- 
tion, it  is  possible  to  clear  away  some  of  the  ob- 
scurity which  covers  it,  and  to  pick  out  a  few 
grains  of  wheat  from  the  mass  of  surrounding 
chaff.  Fortunately,  recent  discoveries  in  physiol- 
ogy are  of  a  character  to  throw  a  partial,  if  not 


VISIONS.  9 

a  full,  light  upon  these  and  similar  problems,  and 
to  give  reasonable  assurance  of  a  complete  solu- 
tion at  some  future  period. 

It  is  unnecessary  and  unwise  to  complicate  our 
present  inquiry  with  any  discussion  of  the  differ- 
ence or  identity  of  mind  and  matter.  Whether 
mind  is  a  product  of  matter,  and  so  material,  or  an 
entity  distinct  from  matter,  it  is  admitted  by  all 
that  it  is  manifested,  so  far  as  we  know  it,  or  can 
know  it,  in  this  world,  only  by  and  through  mat- 
ter. The  materialist  and  immaterialist  are  so  far 
agreed.  Obviously,  then,  the  rational  method  of 
studying  psychological  phenomena  is  a  physiolog- 
ical one.  The  brain  being  an  organ  of  the  mind, 
knowledge  of  it  is  an  indispensable  prerequisite 
to  a  comprehension  of  the  latter  ;  ^  consequently, 
visions  which  are  mental  or  subjective  phenom- 
ena, must  be  conditioned,  if  they  occur  at  all,  as 
intellection  is,  by  the  brain  through  which  they 
are  displayed.  They  can  appear  only  under  def- 
inite modifications  of  the  circulation,  nutrition, 
and  metamorphoses  of  the  intracranial  apparatus. 
The  states  of  the  brain,  therefore,  which  permit, 
accompany,  and  modify  visions,  and  not  the  re- 
ports of  consciousness,  should  be  investigated, 
in   order  to   arrive   at  any  intelligent   notion  of 

^  Admitting  that  the  conception  of  spirit  or  mind,  as  abso- 
lutely independent  of  matter,  is  unthinkable,  I  cannot  regard 
them  as  identical.  It  is  not  from  any  unwillingness  to  affirm 
my  belief  in  an  ego,  that  there  is  an  apparent  doubt  in  these 
statements,  but  from  a  desire  to  avoid  the  introduction  of  side 
issues. 


10  VISIONS. 

such  singular  occurrences.  A  knowledge  of  these 
states,  that  is,  an  acquaintance  with  the  physiolog- 
ical conditions  and  mechanism  of  visions,  would 
go  a  great  way  towards  discovering  the  true  char- 
acter of  the  latter. 

With  the  hope  of  contributing  something  to 
our  knowledge  of  the  natural  history  of  visions, 
the  following  essay  has  been  prepared.  It  is 
founded  upon  a  series  of  cases,  of  which  the  ma- 
jority occurred  under  the  writer's  observation. 
The  subjects  of  these  visions  were  all  persons  of 
more  than  ordinary  intelligence  and  cultivation. 
It  is  possible,  perhaps  j)robable,  that  this  fact  had 
a  more  intimate  connection  than  that  of  mere 
coincidence  with  the  visions  reported.  The  de- 
velopment of  the  nervous  system,  and  especially 
of  the  cerebral  portion  of  the  nervous  system, 
which  attends  cultivation  and  intellectual  power, 
is  more  likely  than  tbe  intellectual  development, 
which  is  permitted  by  brains  of  coarser  fibre 
and  quality,  to  afford  an  opportunity  for  the  dis- 
play of  extraordinary  nervous  phenomena.  It  will 
also  be  noticed,  that  all  the  individuals,  whose 
cases  are  here  presented,  were  themselves  con- 
scious of  the  subjective  character  of  their  visions. 
Indeed,  all  other  cases  were  purposely  excluded. 
The  conditions  of  hallucination,  illusion,  and  delu- 
sion can  be  more  easily  and  satisfactorily  studied 
in  persons  who  recognize  the  unreality  of  what 
besets  them,  than  in  those  who  entertain  an  op- 
posite conviction. 


VISIONS.  11 

Before  going  furtlier,  it  is  important  to  be  sure 
that  a  definite  and  precise  signification  is  attached 
to  the  principal  terms  we  are  to  use,  or  at  least  to 
the  one  by  which  the  subject  we  are  to  investigate 
is  designated.  Accuracy  and  clearness  of  state- 
ment are  essential  to  accuracy  and  clearness  of 
ideas.  Unfortunately,  the  terms  which  have  just 
been  mentioned,  hallucination,  illusion,  and  delu- 
sion, are  vaguely  employed,  and  often  confounded 
with  each  other.  They  have  not  acquired  definite 
and  distinct  significations ;  at  least,  not  to  such  a 
degree  that  any  one  of  them  brings  before  the 
mind  a  peculiar  and  individual  condition  or  no- 
tion, to  the  exclusion  of  the  others.  They  are 
often  used  as  if  they  were  synonymous,  and  as  if 
the  conditions  of  the  nervous  system  which  they 
indicate  were  similar,  or  the  same.  This  confu- 
sion undoubtedly  arises  from  the  uncertainty  and 
inaccuracy  which  has  existed,  till  recently,  of 
our  knowledge  of  their  causes  and  character. 
Webster  defines  delusion,  to  be  "  false  represen- 
tation ....  illusion ;  "  illusion  to  be  "  decep- 
tive appearance  ....  false  show  ; "  and  hallu- 
cination to  be  "  delusion,  faulty  sense,  erroneous 
imagination."  According  to  Worcester,  delusion 
is  "  a  false  belief  ....  illusion  ;  "  illusion  is 
"  deception,  as  of  the  sight,  mind,  or  imagination 
....  delusion  ;  "  and  ^hallucination  is  "  a  moi'- 
bid  error  in  one  or  more  of  the  senses  ....  de- 
lirium ....  delusion."  Evidently,  both  of  these 
lexicographers  regard  the  above  terms  as  nearly 


19.  VISIONS. 

synonymous.  Their  definitions  would  lead  an 
inquirer  to  suppose  that  delusion,  illusion,  and 
hallucination,  instead  of  being  different  and  dis- 
tinct physiological  conditions,  were  almost  identi- 
cal affections.  Dr.  William  A.  Hammond,  who 
is  aware  of  the  existing  confusion  of  ideas  and 
language  on  this  subject,  has  endeavored  to  get 
rid  of  it  by  careful  definitions.  He  defines  ^  Illu- 
sion to  be  "  a  false  perception  of  a  real  sensorial 
impression.  Thus  a  person,  seeing  a  ball  roll 
over  the  floor,  and  imagining  it  to  be>^  mouse, 
has  an  illusion  of  the  sense  of  sight."  Vjlallucina- 
tion  he  defines  to-be  "a  false  perception,  without 
any  material  basis,  and  is  centric  in  its  origin. 
"It  is  more,  therefore,  than  an  erroneous  interpre- 
tation of  a  real  object,  for  it  is  entirely  formed  by 
the  mind/l  Delusion,  according  to  the  same  au- 
thor, is  "  a  false  belief."  (^n  individual,  who  has 
an  illusion  or  hallucination,  and  is  sensible  that 
they  are  not  realities,  is  not  deluded  ;  one  who 
accepts  them  as  facts  is  deluded.  These  distinc- 
tions are  just  and  importaji^  They  are  founded 
on  the  existence  of  three  distinct  classes  of  false 
perceptions,  which  have  been  discovered  by  physi- 
ological and  clinical  observation  :  viz.  one  of  sub- 
jective, or  as  Dr.  Hammond  designates  them, 
i'entric  perceptions,  which  are  produced  solely  by 
cerebral  action,  and  are  recognized  as  false  by  the 
subjects  of  them  ;  a  second  class  of  objective,  or 

1  Diseases  of  the  Nervous  System,  by  William  A.  Hammond,  M. 
D.,  6thed.,  pp.  320,  321. 


VISIONS.  13 

eccentric  false  perceptions,  which  are  recognized 
as  false  by  the  subjects  of  them,  and  are  produced 
by  external  objects,  acting  on  the  visual  appara- 
tus, ah-extra,  that  is,  playing  upon  the  individaal 
from  without,  and  hence  the  term  illusion,  from  in 
and  ludo,  to  play  upon ;  and  a  third  class  of  false 
perceptions,  which  may  be  subjective  or  objective, 
or  both  together,  in  the  reality  of  which  the  in- 
dividual believes,  and  so  is  deluded  by  them  ; 
hence  delusion,  from  de  and  ludo,  to  be  played 
upon  from  within,  or  mocked  by  the  brain. 

Nothwithstanding  the  justness  of  these  distinc- 
tions, it  is  difficult  to  keep  them  well  in  mind,  and 
use  the  old  names.  Hallucination,  illusion,  and 
delusion,  as  the  above  citations  from  Webster  and 
Worcester  show,  are  so  closely  allied,  in  their  or- 
dinary acceptation,  that  one  not  only  suggests  the 
others,  but  is  often  confounded  with  them,  or  is 
substituted  for  them.  It  would  avoid  ambiguity 
of  language,  and  confusion  of  thought,  to  discard 
them  altogether,  at  least,  from  scientific  treatises, 
and  employ  new  ones,  if  such  could  be  found, 
which  would  describe,  more  accurately  than  these, 
the  conditions  they  are  intended  to  designate, 
and  with  which  no  preconceived  notions  are  as- 
sociated. 

With  the  hope  of  attaining  this  object,  the  fol- 
lowing terms  are  proposed,  and  will  be  used  in 
the  present  essay.  The  normal  process  of  vision 
may  be  appropriately  called  Orthopia,  from  op^o's 
and  ojrTOjxai ;  and  false  perception,  or  vision,  Pseu- 


14  VISIONS. 

dopia,  from  i/'tvSos  and  oTrro/xat.  According  to  this 
nomenclature,  false  perception,  arising  from  the 
action  of  the  intracranial  vis.ual  apparatus,  would 
be  called  subjective  or  centric  pseudopia ;  that 
arising  from  disturbance  of  the  eye  alone,  oph- 
thalmic pseudopia ;  and  that  produced  by  the 
presence  of  extei-nal  objects,  objective  or  eccen- 
tric pseudopia.  An  individual,  conscious  of  the  er- 
ror in  his  perceptions,  would  have  conscious  pseu- 
dopia ;  otherwise,  unconscious  pseudopia.  One 
advantage  of  these  terms  over  the  common  ones 
of  hallucination,  illusion,  and  delusion,  is  that 
they  indicate  the  precise  part  of  the  visual  ap- 
paratus, whose  structural  or  functional  disturbance 
causes  the  false  perceptions.  Conscious  centric 
(or  subjective)  pseudopia ;  unconscious  centric 
(or  subjective)  pseudopia;  conscious  eccentric  (or 
objective)  pseudopia  ;  unconscious  eccentric  (or 
objective)  pseudopia ;  conscious  retinal  pseudo- 
pia ;  unconscious  retinal  pseudopia,  etc.,  etc.  ;  all 
indicate,  wibh  tolerable  precision,  the  part  from 
which  visual  derangement  proceeds,  and,  to  some 
extent,  the  character  of  the  derangement.  An- 
other and  no  slight  advantage  is,  that  no  tradi- 
tional or  preconceived  notions  are  associated  with 
these  terms. 

The  following  cases  form  an  appropriate  intro- 
duction to  a  discussion  of  the  physiological  and 
pathological  conditions  of  pseudopia,  and  they  il- 
lustrate most  of  the  important  points  to  which  ref- 
erence will  afterwards  be  made.     The  first  case 


VISIONS.  15 

is  one  of  conscious  centric  or  subjective  pseu- 
dopia,  occurring  in  the  course  of  delirium  tremens, 
or  rather  during  convalescence  from  that  malady. 
Subjective  sight-seeing  is  not  an  unusual  event  in 
that  affection,  but  it  is  not  of  less  physiological 
importance,  because  it  is  familiar. 

CASE  I. 

Conscious  centric  or  subjective  pseudopia  in  a  man  of  middle 
age,  resulting  from  the  action  of  alcohol  on  the  brain. 

Mr.  C,  a  man  of  excellent  natural  abilities 
and  liberal  education,  unfortunately  became  ad- 
dicted to  the  excessive  use  of  alcoholic  drinks. 
This  led  to  the  common  results  of  intemper- 
ance, such  as  gastric  derangement,  nervous  pros- 
tration, insomnia,  and,  at  length,  to  attacks  of 
delirium  tremens.  The  latter  never  assumed  a 
violent  type,  though  they  were  sufficiently  char- 
acteristic. The  explanation  of  their  mildness  is 
probably  to  be  found  in  the  fact,  that  he  did  not 
live  long  enough  for  their  more  complete  devel- 
opment. He  died  in  middle  life,  before  the  age  of 
forty,  or  somewhere  about  that  time.  The  de- 
lirium which  he  exhibited  was  of  the  usual  whim- 
p^'cal  and  incoherent  character.  When  it  attacked 
him,  his  attendants  and  the  furniture  in  his  room 
would  assume  strange  and  distorted  forms,  and  he 
would  see,  moving  and  flitting  about  his  chamber, 
all  sorts  of  creeping  and  crawling  things,  hideous 
shapes,  hobgoblins,  griffins,  and  unearthly  and  in- 


16  VISIONS. 

describable  apparitions,  such  as  are  common  to 
the  delirium  of  this  malady.  On  one  occasion, 
when  he  was  so  far  convalescent  from  an  attack 
as  to  have  slept  the  night  previous  to  my  visit,  I 
asked  him  if  sleep  had  driven  off  all  his  spectres 
and  unearthly  companions.  He  replied  that  all 
were  gone  but  one,  and  that  one  was  a  large  black 
dog,  which  still  haunted  him. 

"  Where  is  he?"  I  inquired. 

"  There,"  he  said,  pointing  across  the  room, 
"  standing  on  the  bureau,  under  the  mirror." 

I  went  to  the  spot,  and  putting  my  hand  upon 
the  centre  of  the  bureau,  asked,  "  Do  I  now  touch 
the  dog?" 

"No;"  was  the  answer,  "he  has  moved  aside 
to  the  right." 

Carrying  my  hand  to  the  right,  "  Where  is  he 
now  ?  "  I  continued. 

"  Jumped  down  upon  the  floor,"  said  the  patient. 

I  did  not  attempt  to  pursue  the  animal  farther, 
and  he  soon  vanished.  Mr.  C.  talked  intelligently 
about  his  spectres.  Generally,  he  said  he  could 
recognize  their  character  as  subjective  phenomena, 
but  sometimes  he  found  it  a  very  difficult  thing  to 
do  so.  For  instance,  he  stated  that  his  wife  once 
assumed,  in  his  delirium,  the  appearance  of  a 
burglar  or  a  thief,  when  she  entered  his  apart- 
ment, and  it  was  with  extreme  difficulty  that  he 
restrained  himself  from  knocking  her  down.  A 
sort  of  vague  and  shadowy  doubt  as  to  his  own 
condition  and   the  correctness  of  his  judgment, 


VISIONS.  17 

alone  prevented  him  from  inflicting  violence  upon 
her.  The  seeing,  or  rather  the  perception,  of  the 
animals,  spirits,  and  other  beings,  of  his  subjective 
menagerie,  was  nearly,  and  sometimes  quite  as 
distinct  as  that  of  real  objects  when  he  was  well. 

The  chief  peculiarity  of  this  case  is  the  persist- 
ence of  the  apparition  of  the  black  dog,  united 
with  the  distinctness  with  which  the  animal  was 
seen.  The.  spectres  of  delirium  tremens  are,  un- 
fortunately, only  too  often  brought  to  the  notice 
of  medical  men ;  but  it  is  not  often  that  the  pa- 
tient, who  is  tormented  by  the  vagaries  of  his 
brain,  is  able  to  recognize  aaid  describe  the  char- 
acter of  his  visions  as  clearly  as  Mr.  C.  did. 

It  is  well  known  that  alcohol  is  not  the  only 
agent  which  can  make  men  and  women  see  with- 
out eyes,  and  hear  without  ears.  Opium,  ether, 
Indian  hemp,  belladonna,  and  their  congeners 
possess  a  similar  power ;  but  in  what  their  power  -^ 
resides  is  not  comprehended  any  better  than  is 
the  cerebral  mechanism  by  which  such  effects  are 
produced. 

My  personal  experience  of  the  vision-producing 
power  of  opium  is  so  slight,  that  it  scarcely  de- 
serves to  be  reported  ;  but  inasmuch  as  it  illus- 
trates, as  far  as  it  goes,  the  subject  of  the  present 
paper,  it  may  not  be  inapprqpriate  to  record  it. 
Among  the  most  vivid  recollections  of  my  child- 
hood are  those  of  visions,  which  followed  the  ad- 
ministration of  paregoric  or  of  some  other  form 
of   opium,  a  drug  which  was   occasionally  given 


18  VISIONS. 

me,  especially  during  the  season  of  green  fruits, 
when  colic  and  similar  troubles  are  apt  to  occur. 
Soon  after  taking  the  narcotic,  strange  sights  and 
grotesque  forms  of  all  sorts  of  known  and  un- 
known animals,  among  which  horses  predomi- 
nated, sometimes  in  groups  and  sometimes  singly, 
some  with  bodies  and  no  heads,  and  some  with 
heads  and  no  bodies,  some  in  full  harness  and 
some  without  bridle  or  saddle,  and  as  wild  as 
Mazeppa's  steed,  would  fill  my  room,  swarm 
about  my  bed,  and  run  around  and  over  my  per- 
son. They  made  no  noise,  and  never  excited  my 
fears.  At  first,  I  marvelled  where  they  came 
irom  ;  but  I  soon  learned  to  associate  them  with 
opium,  and  enjoyed  the  spectacle,  instead  of 
dreading  it,  to  such  an  extent,  that  I  looked  for- 
ward to  a  dose  of  opium  with  pleasure,  and  re- 
garded the  amusement  which  it  afforded  me  as 
some  compensation  for  a  sharp  stomach  ache. 
The  spectres  were  distinct,  spirited,  and  life  like. 
They  were  most  clearly  visible  and  most  natural 
when  my  eyes  were  closed,  and  would  disappear 
rapidly  upon  opening  my  eyelids.  I  often  tried 
to  summon  them,  after  taking  opium,  with  my 
eyes  open,  but  then  the  spectre  animals  would 
not  come.  As  soon  as  the  soporific  action  man- 
ifested itself,  they  vanished,  sometimes  suddenly 
and  sometimes  with  a  lingering  step,  as  if  loath 
to  go.  The  duration  of  their  stay  probably  coin- 
cided with  the  primary  stimulant  action  of  the 
drug,  for  they   rarely  remained    near   me   more 


VISIONS.  19 

than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  or  thereabouts.  With 
the  approach  of  adult  life,  this  peculiar  action  of 
oj)ium  almost  entirely  ceased.  Whenever,  of  late 
years,  I  have  had  occasion  to  take  opium,  I  have 
watched  for  the  coming  of  the  old  familiar  spec- 
tres, but  have  only  caught  glimpses  of  them. 
Now  and  then,  after  taking  twenty  or  thirty 
drops  of  laudanum,  I  have  seen  a  horse's  head, 
with  ears  erect,  peering  at  me  through  the  dark- 
ness, just  enough  to  remind  me  of  childhood's  lost 
visions,  and  that  was  all.  This  experience  is  prob- 
ably not  an  unusual  one  ;  and  if  not,  it  illustrates 
only  more  fully,  than  if  it  were,  the  fact  that 
the  machinery  of  cerebral  vision  may  be  easily 
set  agoing  in  a  large  number  of  persons,  if  we 
know  how  to  touch  its  secret  springs,  without 
any  objective  stimulus.  Herein  may  possibly  be 
found  an  explanation  of  the  visions  of  the  enthu- 
siasts and  seers  of  all  nations  and  ages,  as  well  as 
of  those  of  modern  spiritualism,  whenever  the 
latter  are  not  the  result  of  sleight  of  hand,  or 
other  deception. 

The  next  case  is  an  instance  of  conscious  cen- 
tric or  subjective  pseudopia,  which  manifested  it- 
self during  the  course  of  an  epilepsy.  It  occurred 
under  the  observation  of  Dr.  S.  G.  Webber,  of 
Boston,  to  whose  courtesy  I  am  indebted  for  the 
opportunity  of  presenting  it  here.  Sounds,  flashes 
of  light,  and  vague,  shadowy,  and  momentary  vis- 
ions, such  as  are  described  in  this  case,  are  not      y 


20  VISIONS. 

uncommon  antecedents  or  consequents  of  an  epi- 
leptic seizure.  Little  attention  is  usually  paid  to 
them  by  practitioners,  though  they  are  undoubt- 
edly connected  with  the  grave  cerebral  disturb- 
ances which  provoke  epilepsy.  At  present,  how- 
ever, we  are  concerned  with  them  only  as  illus- 
trations of  our  subject. 


CASE  11. 

Mr.  G.  an  intelligent  young  man,  came  under 
the  observation  of  Dr.  Webber,  in  April,  1870,  in 
consequence  of  a  visitation  of  epilepsy.  He  had 
been  suffering  from  the  disease  for  four  years  pre- 
viously. He  had  both  the  grand  mal,  with  loss  of 
consciousness,  and  the  petit  mal.  "  In  the  fall  of 
1873,"  according  to  the  report  of  Dr.  Webber,  "  a 
new  feature  was  observed  in  the  nature  of  the  at- 
tacks of  petit  mal.  After  lying  down,  and  hence 
most  frequently  during  the  night,  or  early  in  the 
morning,  he  had  visionary  attacks,  which  he  spoke 
of  as  a  sort  of  double  consciousness.  While  know- 
ing that  he  was  in  bed,  he  yet  seemed  to  see  ob- 
jects out  of  doors.  In  the  first  attack,  he  saw  a 
man  on  horseback,  riding  helter  skelter  over  the 
flower  beds  in  the  garden,  and  the  flowers  seemed 
to  be  artificial,  made  of  paper.  During  these 'at- 
tacks, he  has  not  always  seen  the  same  objects  ; 
on  one  occasion,  he  saw  a  river  of  water,  flow- 
ing along  quietly,  filled  with  the  heads  of  seals ; 
these  changed  to  soldiers,  marching  down  a  street. 


VISIONS.  21 

Twice,  the  attack  is  mentioned  as  occurring  dur- 
ing the  day,  while  lying  down  for  a  nap.  Once, 
thousands  of  men  leaped  up  over  a  stone  wall, 
near  which  he  thought  he  stood ;  also  animals 
were  seen  in  immense  numbers,  going  across  a 
marsh,  keeping  abreast  for  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  ;  then  the  whole  quickly  faded  from  view. 
These  are  examples  which  he  gave  of  the  attacks. 
It  was  rather  more  common  to  have  a  large  num- 
ber of  objects  appear  than  solitary  individuals. 

This  is  an  instance  of  distinct  conscious  centric 
pseudopia.  The  cerebral  disturbance  which  pro- 
duced it  was  undoubtedly  the  result,  or  a  pai't  of 
the  condition,  of  the  nerve  centres,  which  was  the 
cause  of  the  patient's  epilepsy.  The  support 
which  this  case  lends  to  the  doctrine,  now  gener- 
ally accepted,  that  all  portions  of  the  gray  matter 
of  the  hemispheres  are  in  communication  with 
each  other,  and  capable,  when  sufficiently  excited, 
of  calling  forth  each  other's  activity,  will  be  al- 
luded to  in  another  place. 

The  visions,  which  are  next  described,  are  very 
different  in  their  character,  of  longer  duration, 
and  apparently  less  intimately  associated  with 
grave  disease  of  the  nerve  centres,  than  those 
which  have  just  been  reported. 


22  VISIONS. 


CASE  III. 


Conscious  centric  or  siihjeclive  pseudopia  in  a  married 
ivonian,  apparendy  connected  iviih  some  febrile  derange- 
ment of  the  systein. 

The  subject  of  this  case,  Mrs.  B.,  is  a  lady 
nearly  thirty  years  of  age.  She  is  the  mother  of 
several  children,  and  though  of  a  delicate  organi- 
zation, enjoj^s  a  fair  degree  of  general  health.  She 
is  of  a  nervous  temperament,  which  she  keejjs 
under  excellent  management,  but  which  renders 
her  susceptible  to  many  influences  that  others 
would  feel  very  slightl}^,  or  not  at  all.  She  is  in- 
telligent and  accomplished ;  and  if  her  early  edu- 
cation aided  the  development  of  her  congenital 
nervous  tendencies,  it  also  aided  her  to  acquire 
the  mental  strength  by  which  to  control  them. 
The  visions,  as  she  calls  the  phenomena,  which 
she  sometimes  witnesses,  and  which  she  has  often 
described  to  me,  are  usually  the  forerunner  or  at- 
tendant of  some  sort  of  febrile  attack,  hke  a  cold, 
or  simple  fever,  or  gastric  derangement ;  and  they 
disappear  when  the  attack  is  fully  developed.  She 
has  learned  to  recognize  them  as  purely  subjective 
phenomena,  altogether  independent  of  any  objec- 
tive reality,  and  now  regards  them  as  symptomatic 
of  some  physical  derangement  like  those  which 
have  been  just  mentioned.  When  a  child,  she  had 
the  misfortune  to  lose  her  mother  by  drowning, 
and  saw  the  corpse  at  a  time,  and  under  circum- 
stances, that  affected  her  even  more  profoundly 


VISIONS.  23 

than  such  a  terrible  occurrence  would  be  sure  to 
do,  under  any  circumstances.  She  never  saw  vis- 
ions till  after  this  happened  ;  and  it  is  her  belief 
that  they  are  in  some  way  connected  with  it,  in 
the  relation  of  cause  and  effect,  though  how  she 
cannot  tell. 

The  hallucination  to  which  she  is  subject  takes 
the  form  of  a  female  figure,  which  commonly  ap- 
pears suddenly,  and  without  warning.  The  fig- 
ure is  of  natural  size,  dressed  in  white,  sometimes 
wearing  a  blue  ribbon,  sometimes  without  any- 
thing of  the  sort,  ii.nd  frequently  but  not  always 
carries  its  face  averted.  The  form  and  the  face 
are  always  the  same,  and  are  those  of  a  stranger, 
not  of  an  acquaintance.  It  comes  unbidden,  at 
any  time  of  day  or  night,  and  is  as  liable  to  show 
itself  in  other  places  as  in  Mrs.  B.'s  own  house. 
When  it  appears,  it  assumes  various  postures ; 
sometimes  sitting,  sometimes  standing,  and  some- 
times walking.  On  one  occasion  she  was  going 
to  dine  out.  On  her  way  to  the  dinner,  she  felt 
an  uncomfortable  sensation  in  her  head,  like  a 
coming  headache,  but  was  otherwise  in  fair  con- 
dition. She  did  not  renounce  the  dinner,  but  as 
she  approached  the  table  with  the  other  guests, 
and  was  about  to  take  the  place  selected  for  her, 
she  noticed  that  the  chair,  appropriated  to  her, 
was  already  occupied.  For  a  moment  she  had  no 
doubt  that  a  form  of  flesh  and  blood  filled  it,  and 
was  about  to  ask  the  hostess  for  another  place, 
when  she  recognized  her  familiar  spirit,  which  had 


24  VISIONS. 

assumed  such  natural  proportions  and  color  as  to 
deceive  even  herself.  She  thrust  her  fan  into  the 
spectre,  so  as  to  be  sure  it  was  an  airy  nothing, 
and  then  sat  down.  The  figure  moved  aside  and 
vanished.  On  another  occasion,  she  sent  for  me 
professionally,  because,  though  she  felt  pretty  well, 
the  spectre  had  made  its  appearance  that  morn- 
ing, and  she  was  consequently  sure  that  she  would 
soon  be  ill.  I  found  her  with  a  pulse  moderately 
accelerated,  and  with  other  symptoms  of  slight 
febrile  disturbance,  all  of  which  disappeared  under 
appropriate  management,  and  with  their  disappear- 
ance the  spectre  departed  also.  She  has  learned 
by  experience  and  observation  to  recognize  the 
character  of  her  strange  visitor,  and  rightly  regards 
the  hallucination  as 

"  A  false  creation, 
Proceeding  from  the  heat-oppressed  brain," 

and  is  not  disturbed  by  it.  There  are  times 
when  it  presents  only  a  vague  and  indistinct  out- 
line, like  a  shadow.  At  other  times,  its  form, 
size,  and  appearance  are  so  life-like  and  real,  as 
to  make  its  resemblance  to  a  human  being  per- 
fect ;  indeed,  so  exact  has  the  counterfeit  some- 
times been,  that  Mrs.  B.  could  only  ascertain  its 
unreality,  by  the  experiment  of  trying  to  touch 
it.  It  will  sometimes  take  a  chair,  and  sit  near 
where  she  is  reading,  or  at  work,  or  by  her 
bed,  by  the  half  hour  or  hour  together,  and  then 
vanish  as  suddenly,  and  with   as  little  apparent 


VISIONS.  25 

cause  as  it  came.  It  should  be  added,  that, 
notwithstanding  long  familiarity  with  it  and  its 
freaks,  she  confesses  to  a  feeling  of  relief  at  its 
departure. 

The  striking  peculiarity  of  this  case  is  the  close 
similarity,  amounting  to  identity,  of  the  subjec- 
tive perception,  produced  by  cerebral  action  alone, 
without  any  external  stimulus  or  object,  with 
that  produced  in  the  ordinary  way  by  the  rays  of 
light  from  an  external  object,  falling  upon  the 
retina.  The  cerebral  condition  or  process,  which 
was  here  induced  by  febrile  or  other  disturbance, 
was  so  exactly  like  that  produced  by  the  move- 
ment of  light  from  a  female  iigure,  entering  th^ 
eye  and  thence  sending  a  motion  along  the  nerves 
to  the  gray  matter  of  the  anterior  lobes  of  the 
brain,  that  the  objective  unreality  could  not  be  rec- 
ognized. In  fact,  under  such  circumstances,  the 
brain  is  incompetent  to  discriminate  between  true 
and  false  perceptions,  and  can  make  the  discrimi- 
nation only  by  using  its  other  senses  as  means  of 
correction  or  corroboration.  This  Mrs.  B.  had 
learned  to  do,  and  when  in  doubt,  she  employed 
the  sense  of  touch  to  supplement  and  correct  that 
of  sight.  Another  peculiarity  is  the  ease  and  cer- 
tainty with  which  she  recognized  the  subjective 
character  of  the  apparition.  Few  persons  have 
ever  been  similarly  affected,  and  few  of  those  who 
have  been  have  possessed  the  intelligence  and 
temperament  which  enabled  them  to  form  a  cor- 
rect notion  of  such  singular  phenomena. 


26  VISIONS. 

The  next  case  differs  from  the  preceding  one 
in  the  variety  of  the  visions  desci'ibed,  and  in  the 
greater  care  with  which  they  were  observed  by 
the  subject  of  them.  No  ghosts  or  incorporeal 
visitants  have  ever  put  on  a  greater  semblance  of 
reality  than  these  visual  appearances. 

CASE  IV. 

Conscious  centric  or  subjective  pseudopia,  occurring  in  an 
unmarried  woman;  appearance  of  female  figures,  men, 
animals,  and  other  forms. 

The  subject  of  this  case  is  a  lady  of  middle 
age,  who  has  long  been  an  invalid.  She  has 
suffered  most  in  her  nervous  system,  though  other 
parts  of  lier  organization  have  also  been  more  or 
less  affected.  It  should  be  added  that  her  natural 
abilities  and  acquirements  are  of  a  high  order,  as 
the  following  description  from  her  own  pen  of  the 
hallucinations  that  at  times  beset  her  testifies. 
She  learned  very  early  to  think  for  herself,  and 
perhaps  this  is  the  reason  why  sbe  recognized,  so 
soon  and  so  clearly  as  she  did,  the  subjective 
character  of  her  visions.  She  prepared  the  fol- 
lowing description  of  her  case  at  my  request,  and 
has  kindly  permitted  me  to  use  it,  a  favor  which 
the  reader  will  fully  appreciate :  — 

"  My  earliest  recollections  are  of  a  life  made 
miserable  by  the  daily  companionship  of  a  crowd 
of  dreadful  beings,  visible,  I  know,  only  to  myself. 
Like  Madame  de  Stael,  I  did  not  believe  in  ghosts, 


VISIONS.  27 

but  feared  them  mortally.  When  I  was  about 
fifteen,  we  went  to  Europe  for  two  years,  and  the 
change  of  scene,  and  of  constant  external  interest, 
broke  up  my  invisible  world,  and  I  have  only  en- 
tered it  since  in  times  of  excitement  or  great  fa- 
tigue. Of  late  years  the  most  distinct  visions  have 
appeared  only  when  sharp  mental  pain  or  anxiety 
has  been  added  to  bodily  exhaustion.  My  sense 
of  hearing  has  never  deceived  me,  except  that 
during  my  girlhood,  in  frequent  nervous  states  of 
mind,  all  sounds  would  strike  my  ears  discontin- 
uously,  that  is,  with  a  time-beat  as  sharp  and 
rhythmical  as  the  movement  of  the  bRton  by  an 
orchestral  conductor. 

"  Several  years  ago  one  of  my  sisters  was  taken 
ill  with  typhoid  fever.  I  was  not  strong  enough 
to  be  of  any  assistance  in  her  chamber,  so  I  under- 
took to  finish  some  work  which  she  had  com- 
menced, and  became  daily  more  and  more  worn 
out  in  my  endeavors  to  carry  it  on.  Anxiety, 
added  to  fatigue,  finally  brought  back  the  old 
visions,  which  had  not  troubled  me  continuously 
for  some  years.  Animals  of  all  kinds,  men, 
women,  glaring-eyed  giants,  passed  before  or 
around  me,  until  I  often  felt  as  though  I  were 
surrounded  by  a  circle  of  magic  lanterns,  and 
would  sometimes  place  the  back  of  my  chair 
against  a  wall,  that  at  least  my  ghosts  should  not 
keep  me  constantly  turning,  as  they  passed  be- 
hind me.  One  evening,  feeling  too  tired  to  sit 
up  for  the  latest  report  of  my  sister,  which  my 


28  VISIONS. 

mother  brought  me  regularly,  I  went  to  bed, 
leaving  ray  door  wide  open,  so  that  the  gas,  from 
the  adjoining  entry,  sent  a  stream  of  light  across 
one  half  of  my  little  chamber,  leaving  the  rest 
somewhat  in  shadow.  Soon  I  saw  my  mother 
walk  slowly  into  the  room,  and  stop  at  the  foot 
of  the  bed.  I  remember  feeling  surprised  that  I 
had  not  heard  her  footstep,  as  she  came  through 
the  passage.  '  Well  ?  '  I  said,  inquiringly.  No 
answer,  but  she  took,  slowly,  two  or  three  steps 
towards  the  side  of  the  bed,  and  stopped  again. 
'  What  is  the  matter  ? '  I  exclaimed.  Still  no 
reply  ;  but  again  she  moved  slowly  towards  me. 
Thoroughly  frightened  by  this  ominous  silence,  I 
sprang  up  in  bed,  saying,  '  Why  don''t  you  speak 
to  me  ?  '  Until  then  her  back  had  been  turned  to 
the  door,  but  as  I  last  spoke  she  turned,  almost 
touching  my  arm,  and  the  light  falling  on  her 
face,  showed  me  an  entire  stranger.  She  had 
heavy  dark  hair,  and  her  face,  quite  young,  was 
pale,  and  though  calm,  very  sad.  Over  her 
shoulders  was  a  child's  woollen  shawl,  of  a  small 
plaid  not  familiar  to  me,  which  she  drew  closely 
about  her,  as  though  she  were  cold.  Her  right 
hand,  which  pressed  the  shawl  against  her  side, 
was  very  white,  and  I  was  struck  by  the  great 
beauty  of  its  shape.  The  thought  passed  through 
my  mind,  '  Can  she  be  a  friend  of  the  nurse  ?  But 
tvht/  has  she  been  sent  so  mysteriously  to  me  ? ' 
As  I  stared  at  her  in  speechless  amazement,  she 
fell  to  the  floor.     I  instantly  stooped  over  the  side 


VISIONS.  29 

of  the  bed.  To  my  consternation  there  was  noth- 
ing to  be  seen  !  Accustomed  as  I  was  to  ghosts, 
if  there  had  been  anything  in  the  least  shadowy 
about  my  visitor,  I  should  have  suspected  her 
tangibility ;  but  so  well  defined  was  she,  so  vividly 
was  her  reality  impressed  upon  me,  that  I  could 
not  believe  that  she  had  vanished.  I  looked  into 
every  corner,  and  glanced  under  the  bed ;  it 
seemed  even  more  credible,  for  a  moment,  that 
the  floor  had  opened,  than  that  my  visitor  had 
been  less  flesh  and  blood  than  I. 

"  I  think  that  my  ghost  stories  cannot  be  suffi- 
ciently remai'kable  to  make  you  wish  for  any 
other  than  tliis,  but  if  you  lack  illustration  of  any 
special  point  you  wish  to  urge,  I  could  probably 
supply  you  with  any  style  of  ghost  or  goblin 
that  you  may  need.  It  occurs  to  me  that  the  re- 
markable cases  of  nervous  disturbance  which  you 
have  related  to  me  have  all  occurred  in  the  even- 
ing, as  did  the  incident  which  I  have  just  de- 
scribed. This  visitor  stayed  with  me  longer  than 
any  other  of  her  kind  that  I  have  ever  received  ; 
but  usually  the  visions  seen  by  sunlight  have 
been  the  most  distinct  and  deceptive,  and  have 
haunted  me  the  most  persistently.  It  was  in 
the  daytime,  too,  that  I  walked  beside  my  own 
double  ;  and  on  one  bright  afternoon,  that  I  lost 
my  way,  in  a  country  town  as  familiar  to  me  as 
was  Cambridge  to  your  college  friend.  Luckily, 
I  was  driving,  and  not  too  much  frightened  to  re- 
member that  my  horse  had  not  lost  his  wits  also. 


30  VISIONS. 

I   loosened   the   reins,  and   he   brought   me   out 
safely  from  a  very  awkward  dilemma." 

The  previous  case  presents  several  interesting 
points.  First,  the  early  age  at  which  the  hallu- 
cinations began  is  worthy  of  notice.  Their  early 
appearance  indicates,  probably,  some  congenital 
cerebral  condition,  which  favored  their  manifesta- 
tion. If  such  be  the  fact,  it  raises  a  question  as 
to  how  far  the  brain,  in  childhood,  is  more  sus- 
ceptible than  in  adult  life,  to  subjective  impres- 
sions, and  consequent  hallucination  and  delusion. 
The  screaming,  and  strange  terrors,  and  fright- 
ened looks  and  actions,  which  some  children  ex- 
hibit, when  there  is  no  apparent  cause  for  terror 
or  alarm,  may  sometimes  result  from  cerebral 
processes,  which  surround  them  with  invisible  ob- 
jects of  horror  and  distress.  The  terrors  of  such 
unfortunate  children  deserve  the  considerate  treat- 
ment of  practitioners,  and  the  wise  and  tender 
watchfulness  of  parents,  instead  of  ridicule  and 
punishment.  Secondly,  another  noteworthy  cir- 
cumstance is,  that  the  visions  of  Miss  D.'s  adult 
life  appeared  only  when  mental  pain  or  anxiety, 
added  to  bodily  exhaustion,  had  prepared  the  way 
for  them ;  a  hint,  that  brain  fatigue  and  bodily 
exhaustion  favor  the  cerebral  processes,  or  supply 
the  cerebral  conditions  of  subjective  sight  and 
hearing.  A  third  point  of  interest  is  the  close 
similarity  of  what,  for  want  of  a  better  expres- 
sion, may  be  called  her  subjective  visions  to  her 


VISIONS.  31 

objective  sight.  The  important  influences  which 
flow  from  this  will  be  mentioned  elsewhere.  A 
fourth  point  of  great  physiological  interest,  and 
one  which  her  own  observation  led  her  to  empha- 
size, is,  that  her  visions,  instead  of  being,  as  such 
visions  usually  are,  shadowy  and  doubtful  by  day- 
light, wei'e  most  distinct  and  deceptive  in  a  clear 
and  bright  light.  Her  brain  did  not  require 
shadows,  twilight,  and  darkness,  for  the  produc- 
tion of  hallucinations.  This  is  evidence,  to  a  cer- 
tain extent,  that  the  cerebral  processes  by  which 
vision  is  produced  may  not  only  be  started  in  the 
brain  itself,  but  that,  when  so  started,  they  are 
identical  with  those  set  agoing  by  an  objective 
stimulus  in  the  ordinary  way. 

The  visions  of  Nicolai  of  Berlin  have  been  re- 
ferred to,  and  quoted  by  psychologists  and  phys- 
iologists, for  neai'ly  a  hundred  years.  Their  in- 
trinsic importance,  as  psychological  phenomena, 
is  enhanced  by  the  fact,  that  he  was  himself  the 
subject  of  them,  and  that,  being  a  man  of  careful 
observation  and  scientific  attainments,  he  atten- 
tively watched  their  various  phases  as  they  oc- 
curred in  his  own  person,  endeavored  to  trace  the 
connection  between  them  and  his  own  physical 
condition,  and  himself  recorded  the  result  of  his 
observations.  His  visions  were,  moreover,  re- 
markable for  presenting  simultaneously  false  per- 
ceptions of  sight  and  sound.  He  not  only  saw 
human  beings,  but  heard  them  speak.     He  had, 


32  VISIONS. 

therefore,  pseudotia  (i/'eCSos  and  ous),  as  well  as 
pseudopia.  The  rational  view  which  he  took  of 
his  visions,  and  his  hypothetical  explanation  of 
them,  show  him  to  have  been  a  person  consider- 
ably in  advance  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived. 
They  are  such  admirable  illustrations  of  our  sub- 
ject, that  his  account  of  them  is  quoted  in  full. 

CASE  V. 

Conscious  centric  or  subjective  pseudopia  and  pseudotia  in  a 
man  past  middle  life ;  record  of  the  visions,  made  hij  the 
subject  of  themA 

"  In  the  first  two  months  of  the  year  1791,  I 
was  much  affected  in  my  mind  by  several  inci- 
dents of  a  very  disagreeable  nature ;  and  on  the 
24th  of  February  a  circumstance  occurred  which 
irritated  me  extremely.  •  At  ten  o'clock  in  the 
forenoon  my  wife  and  another  person  came  to 
console  me ;  I  was  in  a  violent  perturbation  of 
mind,  owing  to  a  series  of  incidents  which  had 
altogether  wounded  my  moral  feelings,  and  from 
which  I  saw  no  possibility  of  relief ;  when  sud- 
denly I  observed  at  the  distance  of  ten  paces  from 
me  a  figure, — the  figure  of  a  deceased  person. 
I  pointed  at  it,  and  asked  my  wife  whether  she 
did  not  see  it.  She  saw  nothing,  but  being  much 
alarmed,  endeavored  to  compose  me,  and  sent  for 
the  physician.     The  figure  remained  some  seven 

^  A  Journal  of  Natural  Philosophy,  Chemistry,  and  the  Arts,  by 
William  Nicholson,  vol.  vi.,  pp.  166,  etc.     London,  1803. 


VISIONS.  33 

or  eight  minutes,  and  at  length  I  became  a  little 
more  calm ;  and  as  I  was  extremely  exhausted,  I 
soon  afterwards  fell  into  a  troubled  kind  of  slum- 
ber, which  lasted  for  half  an  hour.  The  vision 
was  ascribed  to  the  great  agitation  of  mind  in 
which  I  had  been,  and  it  was  supposed  I  should 
have  nothing  more  to  apprehend  from  that  cause ; 
but  the  violent  affection  had  put  my  nerves  into 
some  unnatural  state  ;  from  this  arose  further 
consequences,  which  require  a  more  detailed  de- 
scription. 

"  In  the  afternoon,  a  little  after  four  o'clock, 
the  figure  which  I  had  seen  in  the  morning  again 
appeared.  I  was  alone  when  this  happened ;  a 
circumstance  which,  as  may  be  easily  conceived, 
could  not  be  very  agreeable.  I  went,  therefore, 
to  the  apartment  of  my  wife,  to  whom  I  related 
it.  But  thither  also  the  figure  pursued  me. 
Sometimes  it  was  present,  sometimes  it  vanished, 
but  it  was  always  the  same  standing  figure.  A 
little  after  six  o'clock  several  stalking  figures  also 
appeared ;  but  they  had  no  connection  with  the 
standing  figure.  I  can  assign  no  other  reason  for 
this  apparition  than  that,  though  much  more  com- 
posed in  my  mind,  I  had  not  been  able  so  soon 
entirely  to  forget  the  cause  of  such  deep  and  dis- 
tressing vexation,  and  had  reflected  on  the  conse- 
quences of  it,  in  order,  if  possible,  to  avoid  them  ; 
and  that  this  happened  three  hours  after  dinner, 
at  the  time  when  digestion  just  begins. 

"  At  length  I  became  more  composed  with  re- 


84  VISIONS. 

spect  to  the  disagreeable  incident  which  had  given 
rise  to  the  first  apparition  ;  but  though  I  had 
used  ver}'-  excellent  medicines,  and  found  myself 
in  other  respects  perfectly  well,  yet  the  aj^pari- 
tions  did  not  diminish,  but  on  the  contrary  rather 
increased  in  number,  and  were  transformed  in  the 
most  extraordinary  manner. 

"  After  I  had  recovered  from  the  first  impres- 
sion of  terror,  I  never  felt  myself  particularly 
agitated  by  these  apparitions,  as  I  considered 
them  to  be,  what  they  really  were,  the  extraor- 
dinary consequences  of  indisposition ;  on  the  con- 
trary, I  endeavored  as  much  as  possible  to  preserve 
my  composure  of  mind,  that  I  might  remain  dis- 
tinctly conscious  of  what  passed  within  me.  I 
observed  these  phantoms  with  great  accuracy, 
and  very  often  reflected  on  my  previous  thoughts, 
with  a  view  to  discover  some  law  in  the  associ- 
ation of  ideas,  by  which  exactly  these  or  other 
figures  might  present  themselves  to  the  imagina- 
tion  

"  The  figure  of  the  deceased  person  never  ap- 
peared to  me  after  the  first  dreadful  day  ;  but 
several  other  figures  showed  themselves  after- 
wards very  distinctly ;  sometimes  such  as  I  knew ; 
mostly,  however,  of  persons  I  did  not  know,  and 
amongst  those  known  to  me  were  the  semblances 
of  both  living  and  deceased  persons,  but  mostly 
the  former ;  and  I  made  the  observation  that  ac- 
quaintance with  whom  I  daily  conversed  never  ap- 
peared to  me  as  phantasms ;  it  was  always  such 


VTSIONS.  35 

as  were  at  a  distance.  When  these  apparitions 
had  continued  some  weeks,  and  I  could  regard 
them  with  the  greatest  composure,  I  afterwards 
endeavored,  at  my  own  pleasure,  to  call  forth 
phantoms  of  several  acquaintances,  whom  I  for 
that  reason  represented  to  ray  imagination  in 
the  most  lively  manner,  but  in  vain.  For,  how- 
ever accurately  I  pictured  to  my  mind  the  figures 
of  such  persons,  I  never  once  could  succeed  in 
my  desire  of  seeing  them  externally ;  though  I 
had  some  short  time  before  seen  them  as  phan- 
toms, and  they  had  perhaps  afterwards  unex- 
pectedly presented  themselves  to  me  in  the  same 
manner.  The  phantasms  appeared  to  me  in  every 
case  involuntarily,  as  if  they  had  been  presented 
externally,  like  the  phenomena  in  natui-e,  though 
they  certainly  had  their  origin  internally ;  and  at 
the  same  time  I  was  always  able  to  distinguish 
with  the  greatest  precision  phantasms  from  phe- 
nomena. Indeed,  I  never  once  erred  in  this,  as 
I  was  in  general  perfectly  calm  and  self-collected 
on  the  occasion.  I  knew  extremely  well,  when  it 
only  appeai'ed  to  me  that  the  door  was  opened 
and  a  phantom  entered,  and  when  the  door  really 
was  opened  and  any  person  came  in. 

"  It  is  also  to  be  noted,  that  these  figures  ap- 
peared to  me  at  all  times,  and  under  the  most 
diffei'ent  circumstances,  equally  distinct  and  clear, 
whether  I  was  alone  or  in  company,  by  broad  day- 
light equally  as  in  the  night-time,  in  my  own  as 
well  as  in  my  neighbor's  house  ;  yet  when  I  was  at 


36  VISIONS. 

another  person's  house,  they  were  less  frequent, 
and  when  I  walked  the  public  street  they  very 
seldom  appeared.  When  I  shut  my  eyes  some- 
times the  figures  disappeared,  sometimes  they  re- 
mained even  after  I  had  closed  them.  If  they 
vanished  in  the  former  case,  on  opening  my  eyes 
again,  nearly  the  same  figures  appeared  which  I 
had  seen  before. 

"  I  sometimes  conversed  with  my  physician  and 
my  wife,  concerning  the  phantasms  which  at  the 
time  hovered  around  me  ;  for  in  general  the  forms 
appeared  oftener  in  motion  than  at  rest.  They 
did  not  always  continue  present ;  they  frequently 
left  me  altogether,  and  again  appeared  for  a  short 
or  longer  space  of  time,  singly  or  more  at  once  ; 
but,-  in  general,  several  appeared  together.  For 
the  most  part  I  saw  human  figures  of  both  sexes ; 
they  commonly  passed  to  and  fro  as  if  they  had 
no  connection  with  each  other,  like  people  at  a 
fair  where  all  is  bustle ;  sometimes  they  appeared 
to  have  business  with  one  another.  Once  or  twice 
I  saw  amongst  them  persons  on  horseback,  and 
dogs  and  birds  ;  these  figures  all  appeared  to  me 
in  their  natural  size,  as  distinctly  as  if  they  had 
existed  in  real  life,  with  the  several  tints  on  the 
uncovered  parts  of  the  body,  and  with  all  the  dif- 
ferent kinds  and  colors  of  clothes.  But  I  think, 
however,  that  the  colors  were  somewhat  paler 
than  they  are  in  nature. 

"  None  of  the  figures  had  any  distinguishing 
characteristic ;   they  were   neither   terrible,  ludi- 


VISIONS.  37 

crous,  nor  repulsive  ;  most  of  them  were  ordinary 
in  their  appearance  ;  some  were  even  agreeable. 

"  On  the  whole,  the  longer  I  continued  in  this 
state,  the  more  did  the  number  of  phantasms  in- 
crease, and  the  appai'itions  became  more  frequent. 
About  four  weeks  afterwards  I  began  to  hear 
them  speak ;  sometimes  the  phantasms  spoke  with 
one  another ;  but  for  the  most  part  they  addressed 
themselves  to  me  ;  these  speeches  were  in  general 
short,  andnever  contained  anything  disagreeable. 
Intelligent  and  respected  friends  often  appeared 
to  me,  who  endeavored  to  console  me  in  my  grief, 
which  still  left  deep  traces  on  my  mind.  This 
speaking  I  heard  most  frequently  when  I  was 
alone  ;  though  I  sometimes  heard  it  in  company, 
intermixed  with  the  conversation  of  real  persons  ; 
frequently  in  single  phrases  only,  but  sometimes 
even  in  connected  discourse."  .... 

With  the  hope  of  obtaining  relief  M.  Nicolai 
determined  to  lose  blood.  The  result  is  thus  de- 
scribed :  — 

"  I  was  alone  with  the  surgeon,  but  during  the 
operation  the  room  swarmed  with  hviman  forms 
of  every  description,  which  crowded  fast  one  on 
another  ;  this  continued  till  half  past  four  o'clock, 
exactly  the  time  when  the  digestion  commences. 
I  then  observed  that  the  figures  began  to  move 
more  slowly  ;  soon  afterwards  the  colors  became 
gradually  paler;  every  seven  minutes  they  lost 
more  and  more  of  their  intensity,  without  any  al- 
teration in  the  distinct  figure  of  the  apparitions. 


38  VISIONS. 

At  about  half  past  six  o'clock  all  the  figures  were 
entirely  white,  and  moved  very  little  ;  yet  the 
forms  appeared  perfectly  distinct ;  by  degrees 
they  became  visibly  less  plain,  without  decreasing 
in  number,  as  had  often  formerly  been  the  case. 
The  figures  did  not  move  off,  neither  did  they 
vanish,  which  also  had  usually  happened  on  other 
occasions.  In  this  instance  they  dissolved  imme- 
diately into  air  ;  of  some  even  whole  pieces  re- 
mained for  a  length  of  time,  which  also  by  de- 
grees were  lost  to  the  eye.  At  about  eight  o'clock 
there  did  not  remain  a  vestige  of  any  of  them, 
and  I  have  never  since  experienced  any  appear- 
ance of  the  same  kind." 

Besides  this  account  of  his  own  experience,  M. 
Nicolai  reports  the  case  of  his  friend,  Moses  Men- 
delsohn, who  contracted  a  malady,  after  intense 
application  to  study,  in  which  he  heard,  at  night, 
a  stentorian  voice  repeat  much  that  had  been 
spoken  to  him  during  the  day.  Here  the  ear,  not 
the  eye,  was  disturbed  so  as  to  report  inaccurately. 

The  comments  which  are  naturally  suggested 
by  this  extraordinary  account,  and  the  probable 
explanation  of  the  visions  described,  will  be  given 
farther  on,  in  connection  with  the  discussion  of 
the  physiological  conditions  of  pseudopia.  The 
case  which  immediately  follows  resembles  this  in 
being  an  instance  of  the  abnormal  action  of  two 
senses  simultaneously. 


VISIONS.  39 

CASE  VI. 

Conscious  centric  or  subjective  pseudnpia  and  pseudotia  ;  in  a 
man  over  eighty  years  of  age,  associated  loith  disease  of  the 
brain,  which  finally  proved  fatal. 

Mr.  A.,  a  man  of  parts  and  education,  was  a 
retired  merchant.  Possessed  of  an  ample  fortune, 
be  devoted  more  time  to  intellectual  and  aesthetic 
pursuits  than  to  business.  He  was  particularly- 
fond  of  music,  was  familiar  with  the  works  of  the 
great  composers,  and  heard  with  delight  the  ar- 
tists who  interpreted  them.  During  a  long  life, 
he  was  a  frequent  attendant  at  operas  and  con- 
certs where  the  best  music  was  produced.  Early 
in  his  career  he  occasionally  visited  Europe,  and 
when  he  did  so,  he  improved  the  opportunities 
which  his  visit  afforded,  of  indulging  his  mu- 
sical taste  more  liberally  than  he  could  do  in  this 
country.  This  fact  of  his  possessing  a  fine  mu- 
sical taste,  and  of  his  indulging  and  cultivat- 
ing it,  is  emphasized  in  this  connection,  in  conse- 
quence of  its  possible  or  probable  relation  to  the 
phenomena  which  will  be  related  presently.  It 
should  be  added,  that  he  was  a  man  of  more  than 
ordinary  intellectual  ability,  and  was  endowed 
with  the  rare  gift  of  good  common  sense.  Few 
persons  could  be  found  less  likely  than  he  to  be 
led  astray  by  their  imagination  or  by  supersti- 
tion. Armed  with  an  active  temperament,  good 
habits,  and  a  strong  physical  organization,  he  en- 
joyed good  health  till  after  the  age  of  eighty.  He 


40  VISIONS. 

then  suffered  for  two  or  three  years  from  a  cere- 
bral malady,  which  at  length  terminated  fatally. 
A  moderate  degree  of  deafness,  persistent  tinni- 
tus aurium,  occasional  vertigo,  and  slight  loss  of 
memory,  were  the  prominent  symptoms  of  his 
condition  for  a  year  or  two  after  he  became  an  oc- 
togenarian. Towards  the  close  of  life,  incoher- 
ence, delirium,  stupor,  and  the  like,  indicated  with 
sufficient  certainty  the  presence  of  severe  cere- 
bral disease.  Its  precise  character,  however,  was 
not  ascertained  by  a  post-mortem  examination. 

When  about  eighty  years  of  age,  and  when  suf- 
fering from  the  deafness,  tinnitus  aurium,  etc., 
just  alluded  to,  he  called  at  my  house  early  one 
morning,  and  gave  me  the  following  account  of 
an  extraordinary  occurrence  that  had  happened  to 
him  the  previous  night.  He  prefaced  his  story 
with  the  remark :  "  I  have  come  to  ask  you, 
doctor,  if  the  time  has  arrived  for  me  to  step  out 
of  this  world."  In  reply  to  what  he  meant  by 
such  a  question,  he  said  that  he  had  witnessed  a 
most  singular  affair,  during  the  previous  night,  of 
which  he  could  give  no  adequate  explanation,  and 
which  he  thought  might  very  likely  be  the  fore- 
runner of  serious  trouble  in  his  brain.  The  ac- 
count is  given,  as  nearly  as  I  can  remember  it, 
in  his  own  language,  with  the  exception  of  chang- 
ing the  first  to  the  third  person. 

He  had  retired,  on  the  night  referred  to,  at  his 
usual  hour,  and  in  his  usual  health.  Nothing  had 
occurred  for  the  day  previous,  or  for  several  days 


VISIONS.  41 

previous,  to  disturb  him  in  any  way  so  far  as  he 
could  recollect.  He  had  partaken  of  his  usual 
diet,  and  followed  his  customary  mode  of  life. 
Soon  after  retiring  he  fell  asleep,  and  slept  well 
till  about  two  A.  M.,  when  he  was  awakened  by 
the  sound  of  music,  which  seemed  to  come  from 
the  street  near  his  house.  Thinking  a  serenade 
was  going  on,  he  got  up  to  ascertain  where  it  was, 
but  discovered  nothing.  The  sound  ceased  when 
he  arose.  On  returning  to  bed,  he  heard  the  sound 
of  music  again,  and  was  at  the  same  time  surprised 
by  the  appearance  of  three  persons,  standing  near 
each  other  in  his  chamber,  opposite  the  foot  of  his 
bed.  It  was  his  habit  to  sleep  with  the  gas-light 
burning  feebly,  near  the  head  of  his  bed.  He 
turned  the  gas  on  to  its  full  power,  and  inspected 
the  intruders.  They  appeared  to  be  musicians, 
who  were  humming  and  singing,  as  if  in  prepara- 
tion for  a  musical  performance.  He  rang  a  bell, 
which  summoned  his  man  servant.  John  soon  ar- 
rived and  was  ordered  to  put  the  strangers  out. 
"  There  is  nobody  here,  sir,"  was  John's  reply  to 
the  order.  For  a  moment  Mr.  A.  was  not  only 
amazed,  but  alarmed.  "  What !  "  he  exclaimed, 
"do  you  see  no  one  there?"  "No  one,"  said  John. 
"  Go  where  those  chairs  are,  and  move  them,"  was 
Mr.  A.'s  next  direction.  John  did  so.  The  stran- 
gers stepped  aside,  but  did  not  go  out.  By  this 
time  Mr.  A.  had  gathered  his  wits  about  him,  and 
was  satisfied  that  he  was  the  victim  of  a  hallucina- 
tion ;  and  he  determined  to  observe  its  phenomena 


42  VISIONS. 

carefully.  Accordingly,  he  bade  his  servant  de- 
part, and  prepared  to  watch  his  visitors.  But  they 
were  so  life-like  and  human,  that  he  was  again 
staggered,  and  recalling  John,  told  him  to  go  for 
the  housekeeper.  She  soon  came,  and  on  being 
interrogated,  confirmed  John's  statements,  that 
there  were  no  strangers  in  the  chamber,  and  no 
sounds  to  be  heard.  Convinced  by  the  testimony 
of  two  witnesses,  Mr.  A.  yielded  to  the  decision 
of  his  reason,  and  again  resolved  to  go  on  with 
the  investigation  of  the  strange  phenomena.  The 
musicians  had  now  resumed  their  position,  near 
the  window  and  opposite  the  foot  of  the  bed.  Mr. 
A.  turned  the  light  of  the  gas  full  upon  them.  He 
looked  at  his  watch,  which  marked  the  hour  of 
half  past  two.  He  then  arranged  his  pillows,  so 
as  to  sit  almost  upright  in  bed,  and  waited  for 
the  next  scene  of  the  play.  He  was  able  to  note 
the  size,  form,  dress,  and  faces,  of  the  performers. 
One  was  a  large  man,  who  bore  some  resemblance 
to  Brignoli.  The  two  others  were  of  less  size,  and 
shorter  stature  than  their  companion.  All  were 
habited  in  dress  coats,  with  white  waistcoats,  and 
wore  white  ci^avats  and  white  gloves.  After  a 
little  time,  spent  in  coughing  and  clearing  their 
throats,  they  began  to  sing.  They  sang  at  first 
a  few  simple  airs,  "  Sweet  Home  "  among  others. 
They  then  attempted  more  difiicult  music,  and 
gave  selections  from  Beethoven  and  Mozart.  Be- 
tween the  pieces,  they  chatted  with  each  other  in  a 
foreign  language,  which  Mr.  A.  took  to  be  Italian, 


VISIONS.  43 

but  they  did  not  address  him.  Occasionally  they 
changed  their  position,  turned 'in  various  directions, 
and  part  of  the  time  sat  down.  Mr.  A.  said  the 
singing  was  excellent ;  he  had  rarely  heard  better. 
After  the  first  feeling  of  surprise  and  amazement 
had  passed  away,  he  enjoyed  the  music  exceed- 
ingly. The  performance  continued  in  this  way 
for  some  time,  when  it  suddenly  came  to  an  end. 
The  singing  ceased,  and  the  singers  vanished.  He 
looked  at  his  watch,  and  found  that  the  time  was 
four  o'clock.  The  concert  in  his  brain  had  lasted 
nearly  an  hour  and  a  half,  almost  the  length  of 
an  ordinary  concert.  He  reflected  for  a  while 
uj)on  this  strange  occurrence,  but  not  being  able 
to  arrive  at  any  satisfactory  explanation  of  it,  he 
turned  his  gas  down  and  went  to  sleep.  The  next 
morning  he  called  at  my  ofiice,  as  previously 
stated,  to  ascertain  if  possible  what  pranks  his 
brain  had  been  playing,  and  if  he  should  regard 
them  as  a  warning  of  his  approaching  departure. 

Such  was  Mr.  A.'s  account  of  his  singular  vis- 
ion. It  occurred  to  me  as  possible  that  the  whole 
might  be  a  vivid  dream,  which  had  produced  such 
an  intense  and  profound  impression  as  to  deceive 
him  with  regard  to  its  character.  In  order  to  as- 
certain whether  such  was  the  case  or  not,  the  two 
servants,  to  whom  he  referred  in  his  report  of  his 
night's  experience,  were  asked  if  Mr.  A.  had  been 
ill,  or  if  anything  unusual  had  taken  place  on  the 
night  in  question.  The  reply  of  each  was,  sub- 
stantially, that  he  had  only  been  a  little  out  of  his 


44  VISIONS. 

head,  and  nothing  more,  at  that  time,  because  he 
had  called  them  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night, 
and  told  them  to  put  some  persons  out  of  his 
room,  when,  except  himself,  no  one  was  there. 
Evidently  the  vision  was  more  than  an  ordinary- 
dream. 

In  one  respect  this  case  is  almost  unique.  Like 
that  of  M.  Nicolai  of  Berlin,  the  only  similar  one 
that  I  know  of,  it  is  an  instance  of  a  hallucina- 
tion involving  the  abnormal  action  of  two  senses, 
the  sense  of  sight  and  the  sense  of  hearing,  si- 
multaneously. It  is  not  unusual  for  persons  whose 
brains  have  been  disturbed  by  fever,  alcohol,  cere- 
bral disease,  intense  excitement,  or  overpowering 
emotion,  to  hear  strange  sounds,  or  see  strange 
sights.  This  is  particularly  true  of  the  ear. 
Noises  that  are  altogether  subjective,  and  of  the 
greatest  variety,  such  as  the  ringing  of  bells,  hiss- 
ing of  steam,  cries  of  animals,  screams  of  children, 
chirping  of  locusts,  and  other  sounds,  including 
occasionally  human  voices,  are  so  often  perceived, 
and  referred  to  the  ear,  that  they  are  recognized 
as  forming  a  distinct  group  of  symptoms,  called 
tinnitus  aurium.  In  like  manner,  but  less  often, 
objects,  such  as  trees,  animals,  and  human  forms, 
sometimes  vague  and  sometimes  distinct,  have 
been  seen  by  a  variety  of  persons  and  under  va- 
rious conditions  ;  but  it  is  very  unusual  for  two 
senses  to  be  deceived  at  the  same  time ;  for  the 
eye  and  the  ear  of  a  person  to  be  both  at  fault, 
at  the  same   moment,   under   the   same   circum- 


VTsroNS.  45 

stances,  and  with  regard  to  the  same  objects. 
Such,  however,  was  the  fact  in  this  case,  and  that 
of  M.  Nicolai,  and  it  is  this  which  gives  to  these 
cases  a  peculiar  psychological  and  physiological 
interest.  Fortunately,  modern  physiology  enables 
us  to  form  some  notion,  even  if  it  be  an  imperfect 
one,  of  how  such  phenomena  are  produced.  We 
are  no  longer  obliged  to  conceal  our  ignorance,  by 
calling  them  imaginary,  or  denying  their  occur- 
rence. Whatever  physiological  explanation  may 
be  offered  of  these,  and  other  hallucinations,  will 
be  found  in  another  part  of  this  paper. 

The  visions,  which  are  recorded  in  the  next  and 
last  case,  are  somewhat  less  definite  and  distinct 
than  those  previousl}^  described.  It  presents,  how- 
ever, one  element  or  factor  of  great  physiological 
significance,  which  none  of  the  other  cases  exhibit; 
and  that  is,  the  presumed  and  apparent  influence 
of  the  will  in  producing  pseudopia. 

CASE  VII. 

Conscious  centric  or  subjective  pseudopia ;  influence  of  volition 
upon  its  production ;  phenomena  recorded  by  the  subject  of 
them. 

The  following  case  deserves  especial  attention, 
not  only  on  account  of  its  intrinsic  value,  but  be- 
cause the  subject  of  it,  Mr.  E.,  who  is  an  accom- 
plished scholar,  a  careful  observer,  and  a  distin- 
guished scientist,  has  drawn  up  the  present  report 


46  VISIONS. 

of  it  himself.  Consequently,  we  have  here,  as  in 
the  case  of  M.  Nicolai,  of  Berlin,  observations 
made  by  a  careful  observer  and  trained  thinker 
u^Jon  himself,  of  the  phenomena  of  cerebral  vis- 
ion. For  the  graphic  and  interesting  account 
of  them,  which  the  following  letter  contains,  the 
writer  of  the  present  essay  is  indebted  to  Mr.  E. 
himself :  — 

My  dear  Dr.  Clarke,  —  I  have  no  other  objections 
to  granting  your  request,  than  that  my  memory  may 
fail  me  as  to  details  and  dates. 

In  my  childhood  I  was  much  tormented  by  faces  ap- 
pearing to  me  as  soon  as  I  closed  my  eyes  in  bed.  Up 
to  the  age  of  fifteen,  I  was  subject  to  vivid  dreams  and 
occasional  walking  in  sleep.  I  mention  these  circum- 
stances, because  they  throw  light  on  the  character  of  my 
nervous  system. 

In  my  junior  year  in  college  (my  age  was  twenty -four 
in  January),  I  not  only  kept  up  my  undergraduate 
studies,  but  gave  several  hours  a  day  to  other  mathe- 
matics, and  read  much  in  preparing  and  writing  Bow- 
doin  Essays.  My  vacations  were  also  spent  in  mathe- 
matical work. 

In  the  first  term  of  the  senior  year,  I  began  to  suflTer 
the  penalties  for  this  overwork.  Sleeplessness  at  aight, 
impulses  by  day  to  eccentric  freaks,  and  the  ringing 
of  nonsense  and  profanity  in  my  ears,  were  the  most 
troublesome  symptoms ;  these,  however,  disappeared 
after  entire  rest  from  mental  labor  for  a  few  weeks,  in 
October  and  November,  1842;  while  the  less  trouble- 
some symptoms  of  visions,  which  began  about  that  time, 
continued,  I  think,  about  two  years.     They  were  usually 


VISIONS.  47 

beautiful  and  pleasant,  so  that  I  was  tempted  to  imi- 
tate Goethe,  and  try  whether  I  could  produce  them  at 
will.  I  was  i^articularly  fond  of  statuary ;  and  after  a 
few  trials  succeeded  in  producing  visions  of  statues,  by 
simply  fixing  my  imagination  strongly  enough  upon  the 
memory  of  what  I  had  seen,  or  upon  what  occurred  to 
me  as  a  good  subject  for  a  group.  I  repeated  the  ex- 
periment, however,  but  few  times,  fearing  it  might  lead 
to  some  injurious  result. 

The  spontaneous  visions  could  generally  be  ascribed 
to  some  unusual  fatigue  or  excitement.  Their  form  I 
could  also,  usually,  account  for  from  recent  visits  to 
paintings,  statuary,  or  gardens ;  but  sometimes  their 
form  seemed  to  have  been  suggested  by  something  long 
past,  One  afternoon  I  stood  with  closed  eyes  in  the 
chapel,  in  University  Hall,  and  was  startled  by  the  aji- 
pearance  of  a  beautiful  young  face,  in  a  cloud  of  light.  I 
opened  my  eyes,  in  order  to  disperse  the  vision.  To  my 
surprise  the  vision  remained  several  seconds,  although 
the  sun  was  shining  full  upon  the  wall,  by  the  side  of  the 
pulpit,  under  which  (in  an  imaginary  recess,  apparently 
cutting  off  Dr.  Ware's  legs  above  the  knees)  this  golden- 
haired  youth  showed  himself.  The  features  bore  a  de- 
cided likeness  to  Miss  Sully's  copy  of  Rembrandt's  Peas- 
ant Boy,  which  I  admired  very  much,  but  had  only  seen 
once,  and  that  some  months  before  the  vision. 

One  of  the  last  visions  which  I  had  was  the  most 
troublesome.  In  Maj^,  1844,  I  was  present  at  a  colla- 
tion, where  long  tables  were  adorned  with  large  bouquets. 
The  next  evening  I  was  at  a  Sunday-school  meeting 
at  the  Berry  Street  church,  Boston,  and  as  I  came  out 
was  introduced  to  a  lady,  and  requested  to  escort  her  to 
Old  Cambridge.     She  proved  to  be  rather  taciturn,  and 


48  VISIONS. 

as  I  was  rather  tired  I  finally  grew  sleepy  ;  but  was 
suddenly  aroused,  as  we  walked  past  the  end  of  Inman 
Street,  Cambridgeport,  by"  seeing  a  large  bouquet,  in  a 
faint  cloud  of  light,  spring  out  of  the  top  of  a  post,  on 
the  edge  of  a  sidewalk.  From  that  point  until  I  passed 
what  is  now  the  end  of  Ellery  Street,  every  post  in  suc- 
cession sprouted  in  a  similar  manner,  as  I  approached 
within  about  ten  feet  of  it.  I  did  not  dare  tell  my  com- 
panion, but  tried  to  talk  and  to  draw  her  out  to  speak 
of  other  things.  In  nearly  every  bouquet  I  saw  a 
flower  which  I  did  not  remember  ever  to  have  seen, 
but  which  may  have  been  in  some  bouquet  the  previous 
evening ;  I  have  since  recognized  it  as  cobea. 

From  Ellery  to  Quincy  Street  all  went  well  except 
the  taciturnity  of  the  lady  ;  but  at  about  that  point,  I 
was  unpleasantly  surprised  by  the  sudden  disappearance 
of  all  fences,  trees,  and  houses.  We  were  on  a  bound- 
less desert,  a  level  plain  of  sand  below  us,  a  dull 
cloudy  sky  above,  nothing  else  visible,  except  two  Lom- 
bardy  poplars,  near  together  in  the  extreme  distance  in 
front,  I  managed  to  allow  my  companion  unconsciously 
to  be  my  guide  to  her  house  ;  we  went  past  the  colleges, 
past  "  the  spire  "  and  "  the  tower,"  under  the  Washing- 
ton Elm ;  still  I  saw  nothing  but  the  desert  and  the  two 
distant  poplars.  At  length  she  paused,  withdrew  her 
hand  from  my  arm,  and  took  hold  of  some  invisible 
thing  before  her.  The  latch  of  the  gate  clicked;  in- 
stantly the  two  poplars  rushed  towards  us,  and  sank 
into  the  ground  at  our  feet ;  and  then,  to  my  inexpres- 
sible relief,  all  things  took  on  their  right  appearance.  I 
bade  the  lady  good-night,  and  as  soon  as  she  had  closed 
the  door  I  started  and  ran  at  full  speed  to  Divinity 
Hall,  fearing  lest  some  new  vision  might  prevent  my 
finding  the  way. 


VISIONS.  49 

There  seem  to  me  three  ways  in  which  my  optic 
nerve  has  given  me  the  sense  of  distinct  vision.  First, 
by  the  normal  method  of  light  entering  through  the 
lenses.  Secondly,  by  a  somewhat  abnormal  way,  the 
will  holding  imagination  or  memory  to  one  ima'ge,  until 
the  action  of  that  mental  image  has  become  abnormally 
great,  and  hke  the  action  of  light.  Thirdly,  by  a  truly 
abnormal  nervous  excitation,  spontaneously  producing 
sensations,  those  sensations  receiving  form,  or  being  de- 
termined into  form,  by  indistinct,  or,  rather,  unconscious 
memories  or  imaginations. 

Very  respectfully  and  truly  yours. 

The  visions  which  are  reported  in  this  case  are 
not  so  distinct  as  those  described  in  the  other  cases 
of  the  present  series.  It  is  also  to  be  noticed, 
that  each  separate  halkicination  or  vision  of  Mr. 
C.  was  only  momentary  in  its  appearance,  and 
that  the  figures,  faces,  and  bouquets  were  more  or 
less  shadowy.  But  if,  in  these  respects,  this  case 
is  an  imperfect  illustration  of  subjective  cerebral 
vision,  the  imperfection  is  more  than  compensated 
by  the  fact,  that  it  presents  a  point  of  peculiar 
physiological  interest,  which  none  of  the  other 
cases  exhibit,  and  which  has  rarely  been  observed, 
or,  at  least,  rarely  reported.  This  is  the  power 
or  ability,  which  Mr.  E.  discovered  in  himself,  of 
producing  visions,  that  is,  of  seeing  objects  like 
statues  and  pictures,  by  an  act  of  volition,  and 
without  the  aid  of  any  objective  reality.  The 
important  bearing  of  such  a  brain  power,  if  it 
4 


50  VISIONS. 

exists,  upon  the  physiology  of  cerebral  vision,  and 
the  explanation  which  it  affords  of  many  curious 
and  strange  phenomena  that  have  hitherto  been 
regarded  as  purely  psychological  or  imaginary,  are 
apparent.  It  will  be  discussed  more  at  length 
elsewhere.  Two  other  points,  of  less  physiolog- 
ical interest  than  the  one  just  mentioned,  but 
still  of  great  value,  are  the  same  as  two  empha- 
sized by  Miss  D. :  one  is  the  proclivity  which  Mr. 
E.'s  brain  exhibited  in  early  life  to  visions,  as  if 
it  were  congenitally  predisposed  to  them ;  and 
the  other  is  the  influence  which  he  had  observed, 
that  physical  exhaustion,  united  with  mental  fa- 
tigue, exerted  as  a  factor  in  the  production  of 
spectres.  His  explanation  of  the  manner  in 
which  he  supposed  his  optic  apparatus  gave  him 
the  sense  of  distinct  vision,  besides  the  ordinary 
method  of  light  entering  through  the  lenses  of 
the  eye,  is  ingenious  and  physiologically  possible. 
It  will  be  referred  to  again. 

Before  attempting  any  explanation  of  the  visual 
phenomena  which  have  been  described,  or  mak- 
ing any  practical  application  to  pathology,  thera- 
peutics, metaphysics,  or  popular  beliefs  of  the  in- 
ferences which  may  be  drawn  from  them,  it  is 
important  to  direct  the  attention  of  the  reader  to 
the  processes  and  machinery  of  normal  vision,  or 
orthopia.  When  these  are  known  and  correctly 
interpreted,  it  will  not  be  difficult  to  frame  a 
satisfactory  explanation  of    the    aberrations  from 


VISIONS.  51 

orthopia,  which  the  previous  cases  present.  We 
shall  then,  moreover,  be  prepared  to  see  what  ser- 
vice this  knowledge,  supplemented  and  interpreted 
oj  clinical  observation,  can  render  to  practical 
medicine,  and  possibly  to  metaphysics,  as  well  as 
to  see  how  much  light  it  may  throw  upon  what 
has  been  called  mysterious  and  supernatm'al  in 
well  authenticated  and  trustworthy  instances  of 
ghostly  apparitions,  and  spirit  manifestations.  If 
the  modicum  of  truth,  hidden  by  the  ignorance, 
superstition,  and  charlatanism  which  surround 
such  occur^rences,  could  be  disinterred  from  its  en-, 
vironraent,  a  real  service  would  be  rendered  to 
humanity.  For  where  truth  and  error  are  united, 
if  the  truth  can  be  discovered,  error  can  be  safely 
left  to  itself.  Nothing  dies  so  quickly  as  error 
and  falsehood,  when  there  is  no  truth  to  animate 
them. 

y^is  a  common,  but  erroneous,  notion  that  we 
see  with  our  eyes,  and  hear  with  our  ears.  It  is 
true  that  these  organs  are  indispensable  to  normal 
seeing  and  hearing,  but  it  is  also  true,  and  a  fact 
of  great  importance,  that  they  are  only  conduct- 
ors of  the  vibrations,  called  light  and  sound,  to 
the  delicate  cerebral  structures  of  the  intracranial 
apparatus,  which  transform  such  vibrations  into 
perceptions  of  sight  and  hearing  ;  that  is,  trans- 
form them  so  that  we  see  and  hear.  It  is  the 
brain,  and  not  the  eye  or  the  e<ir,  by  which  we 
see  and  hear 

This  will  be  made  apparent  by  tracing  the  vi- 


52  VISIONS. 

brations  of  light  from  a  sensible  object,  through 
the  visual  apparatus,  to  the  gray  matter  of  the 
cerebral  hemispheres,  where  they  become  con- 
scious and  ideated  vision.  In  order  to  do  this,  we 
should  have  a  distinct  notion  of  the  character  of 
the  optical  apparatus  which  conducts  light  to  the 
brain  ;  that  is,  we  should  acquire  a  clear  idea  of 
the  road  over  which  luminous  vibrations  travel, 
and  of  the  functions  of  each  part  of  the  apparatus 
engaged  in  such  delicate  operations. 

For  our  present  purpose,  the""  apparatus  of  hu- 
•man  vision  may  be  described  as  a  mechanism,  con- 
sisting of  five  organs,  or  sets  of  organs,  which  are 
closely  connected,  and  in  intimate  communication 
with  each  other.  They  are :  (1)  the  eye,  with  the 
iris,  lenses,  retina  and  others  structures,  which 
belong  to  it ;  (2)  the  tubercula  quadrigemina  and 
associated  nerves  ;  (3)  the  cerebral  centres  of  vis- 
ion in  the  hemispheres,  probably  the  angular 
gyri ;  (4)  the  gray  matter  of  the  frontal  convolu- 
tions ;  and  (5)  the  connecting  nerves  of  commu- 
nication. 

Each  portion  of  this  complicated  and  delicate 
apparatus  performs  a  special  function.  To  each 
one  is  assigned  its  own  part  or  duty,  in  the  labor 
of  conveying  such  intelligence  as  light  can  report 
from  the  external  world  to  the  brain.  Each  one 
is  supposed  to  do  its  own  part  or  duty  honestly  ; 
that  is,  never  to  send  a  report  to  a  station  above 
which  it  has  not  received  from  below  ;  and  in  the 
vast   majority   of  cases,    such    is   the  fact.     The 


VISIONS.  63 

senses,  and  especially  the  sense  of  vision,  rarely 
I  deceive  any  one.  They  are  generally  trusted  im- 
plicitly, because  they  are  almost  always  trustwor- 
thy. Nevertheless,  modified  by  disease,  disturbed 
(  by  drugs,  or  influenced  by  the  brain  itself,  they 
sometimes  play  false,  manufacture  news,  like  poli- 
ticians  and  speculators,  and  send  untrustworthy 
reports  to  headquarters. 

d^ight  is  the  stimulus  or  force  which,  like  the 
steam  that  moves  an  engine,  sets  the  visual  ma- 
chinery in  motion.  Without  light,  the  apparatus 
in  the  normal  condition  of  the  system  cannot 
work;  but,  as  will  be  shown  further  on,  and  as 
the  preceding  cases  of  pseudopia  indicate,  there 
are  abnormal  conditions  of  the  brain  which  are 
capable  of  making  the  apparatus  of  vision  per- 
form its  function  without  the  agency  of  light. 
When  this  occurs,  the  natural  results  are  mental 
confusion,  disorder,  and  uncertainty^ 

What  light  is  in  its  essence  we  do  not  know. 
Whether  the  theory  of  emission,  as  held  by  the 
ancients  and  accepted  by  Newton,  or  that  of  un- 
dulation, to  which  physicists  of  the  present  time 
incline,  or  some  other  theory,  be  true,  it  is  not  im- 
portant for  the  purposes  of  the  present  essay  to 
ascertain,  (it  is  enough  to  know  that  light  is 
either  a  form  of  motion,  or  produces  in  some 
aetherial  medium  motion  of  almost  inconceivable 
rapidity.  The  forms  of  motion  which  light  as- 
sumes, or  the  vibrations  by  which  it  is  manifested, 
are  recognized  by  the  cells  of  the  retina  of   the 


64  VISIONS. 

eye,  which  themselves  vibrate  in  response  to  it. 
Some  idea  of  the  delicacy  of  the  retinal  machinery 
of  vision,  and  of  the  corresponding  delicacy  of 
the  whole  intracranial  machinery,  may  be  formed 
by  striving  to  picture  to  ourselves  the  minute- 
ness of  the  wave-lengths  of  light  to  which  the  ret- 
ina is  susceptible.  Fresnel  states  ^  that  the  na- 
ture of  colors  is  determined  by  the  number  of 
vibrations  which  each  color  makes,  just  as  differ- 
ent sounds  are  produced  by  the  varying  number  of 
sonorous  waves.  Seven  hundred  and  twenty-eight 
millions  of  millions  of  undulations  a  second  pro- 
duce what  we  call  the  violet  ray ;  and  more  than 
four  hundred  and  ninety-six  millions  of  millions 
produce  the  red  ray.  The  other  rays  are  produced 
by  other  numbers  of  undulations.  In  like  manner, 
differences  of  form  and  size,  the  varying  expres- 
sions of  the  human  countenance,  the  constantly 
changing  aspects  of  nature,  sunsets  and  storms, 
the  splendor  of  landscapes,  and  the  majesty  of 
mountains  and  of  the  ocean,  and  all  the  wonderful 
beauty,  which  the  faculty  of  vision  comprehends, 
are  telegraphed  to  the  eye  by  vibrations,  which 
differ  from  each  other  by  millions  in  a  second. 
This  rapidity  of  movement  and  minuteness  of 
difference  is  almost  inconceivable.  Yet  this  ra- 
pidity and  minuteness,  of  which  the  mind  fails  to 
form  an  adequate  notion,  the  retina  of  the  eye 
appreciates,  discriminates,  and  transmits  to   the 

1  Traits  £l€mentaire  de  Physique  Experimentale  et  Appliqu^ie, 
par  A,  Ganot.    Paris.     13me  ed.,  p.  560. 


VISIONS.  55 

tubercula  quadrigemina,  and  these  to  other  parts 
of  the  brain. 

In  the  statement  which  has  just  been  made, 
that  light  is  the  agent  which  ordinarily  produces 
the  phenomena  of  vision,  the  expression  ordina- 
rily was  used  designedly.  For,  while  it  is  true 
that  such  is  the  fact,  it  is  also  true,  as  has  been 
already  stated,  that  the  phenomena  of  vision  may 
be  produced  without  the  agency  of  light,  and  with- 
out the  presence  of  extra-cranial  objects.  Such 
instances  are  rare,  but  that  they  may  and  do  oc- 
cur, and  that  they  are  susceptible  of  a  physiolog- 
ical explanation,  are  matters  of  great  interest  and 
practical  importance!) 

Such,  without  eirCering  into  details,  is  the  ap- 
paratus of  human  vision  ;  and  such  the  agent, 
whose  delicate  undulations  set  it  in  motion  and 
enable  it  to  be  the  most  efficient,  the  most  im- 
portant, and  the  most  delightful  means  of  commu- 
nication between  the  brain  and  the  outer  world 
of  any  which  the  organization  possesses.  We 
owe  to  anatomy  the  discovery  and  demonstration 
of  this  apparatus,  and  of  the  tissues,  fibres,  cells, 
and  granules,  which  enter  into  its  composition, 
and  out  of  which  all  its  secret  movements  are 
constructed.  We  owe  to  physics  our  knowledge 
of  the  marvellous  force  to  which  it  responds  ;  and 
to  physiology  the  investigation  and  discovery  of 
the  special  function  in  the  process  of  vision  which 
is  appropriated  to  each  of  its  parts.  Our  next 
step  is  to  point  out  these  special  functions,  and 


66  VISIONS. 

the  separate  parts  of  the  apparatus,  which  are 
charged  with  their  performance.  It  has  already 
been  stated  that  each  part  of  the  visual  apparatus 
has  its  own  work  to  do,  and  that  intelligent  vis- 
ion results  from  the  harmonious  cooperation  of 
the  whole. 

It  is  important  to  bear  in  mind  that  vision, 
which  on  account  of  its  familiarity  seems  to  be 
a  simple  matter,  is  in  reality  a  complex  process. 
It  is  called  the  sense  of  sight,  but  it  is  much  more 
than  sensation.  In  connection  with  light,  it  em- 
ploys the  most  delicate  operations  known  to  phys- 
ics ;  and  in  connection  with  the  brain,  the  most 
subtle  operations  known  to  metaphysics.  By  a 
careful  analysis  it  may  be  separated  into  its  ele- 
ments. When  this  is  done,  when  its  component 
parts  are  discriminated  from  each  other,  as  clearly 
as  the  various  parts  of  the  visual  apparatus  have 
been  discerned  and  dissected  out  by  anatomy,  it 
will  be  a  comparatively  easy  task  to  assign  each 
part,  or  step  in  the  visual  process,  to  its  appropri- 
ate organ  in  the  visual  apparatus.  The  compli- 
cated structure  of  the  apparatus  corresponds  to 
the  complicated  character  of  the  process.  Each 
stage  of  the  latter  is  a  special  function  of  some 
organ  of  the  former. 

Let  us  now  endeavor  to  analyze  this  process 
and  discover  its  elements.  If  a  drop  of  corrosive 
acid  is  put  upon  the  foot  of  a  frog,  the  animal  in- 
stantly withdraws  its  foot.  The  observer  notices 
that  its  foot  has  been  burnt  by  the  acid,  and  justly 


VISIONS.  57 

infers  that  the  frog  felt  a  sensation  of  pain,  and 
consequently  tried  to  remove  its  foot  from  the 
source  of  harm.  This  is  an  instance  of  the  sim- 
plest form  of  sensation.  Suppose,  in  another  frog, 
the  sciatic  nerve  were  completely  severed,  and 
after  the  section  a  drop  of  the  same  acid  were 
put  on  the  foot  of  the  limb,  of  which  the  nerve 
had  been  divided.  The  tissues  would  be  burnt  by 
the  acid  as  before,  but  the  animal  would  not  with- 
draw its  foot.  In  the  first  experiment  pain  was 
felt ;  there  was  sensation.  In  the  second  experi- 
ment no  pain  was  felt ;  there  was  no  sensation. 
But  the  acid  acted  in  the  same  way  in  each  case. 
The  foot  of  the  frog  vtdth  the  divided  nerve  and 
the  foot  of  the  frog  with  the  undivided  nerve  were 
both  alike  burnt.  Evidently  the  foot  did  not  feel ; 
sensation  was  not  there,  though  injury  was.  By 
this  example  we  learn  that  the  process  of  sensa- 
tion includes  at  least  three  elements ;  namely,  lo- 
cal irritation,  communication  of  the  fact  of  such 
irritation  to  a  nerve  centre,  and  consciousness, 
which  in  this  case  was  spinal  consciousness. 

Let  us  borrow  another  experiment  from  the 
physiologists.  If  a  frog  is  suspended  by  its  two 
anterior  extremities,  and  a  drop  of  acid  is  placed 
on  the  foot  of  one  of  its  free,  posterior  extremities, 
the  animal  will  withdraw  its  foot,  rub  its  free  ex- 
tremities together,  shut  its  eyes  (a  frog's  expres- 
sion of  distress),  make  an  effort  to  use  its  anterior 
extremities  for  relief,  and  endeavor  in  every  way 
to  get  rid  of  the  annoyance.     If  another  frog,  of 


68  VISIONS. 

■which  the  spinal  cord  has  been  severed  at  a  point 
above  the  junction  of  the  nerves  from  the  hind 
legs  with  the  cord,  is  suspended  in  the  same  way 
as  the  former  animal,  and  if,  when  thus  suspended, 
a  drop  of  acid  is  put  as  before  on  one  of  its  feet, 
it  will  withdraw  its  foot,  rub  its  two  posterior  ex- 
tremities together,  in  order  to  push  off  the  irritat- 
ing cause,  and  try  in  every  way,  with  the  poste- 
rior half  of  its  body,  to  obtain  relief,  as  was  the 
case  with  the  frog  in  the  previous  experiment; 
but,  unlike  the  animal  of  the  previous  experiment, 
it  will  not  close  its  eyes,  struggle  with  its  fore 
legs,  or  make  any  effort  with  the  anterior  part  of 
its  body,  above  the  point  of  section  of  the  cord. 
Evidently,  the  section  of  the  cord  has  eliminated 
from  the  process  of  sensation,  in  the  frog  of  the 
second  experiment,  an  element  which  existed  in 
the  frog  of  the  first  experiment.  The  first  animal 
endeavored,  with  his  whole  body,  to  get  rid  of 
the  irritation  ;  the  second  animal  made  the  same 
effort,  for  the  same  purpose,  with  only  the  poste- 
rior half  of  its  body.  In  the  second  experiment, 
the  anterior  half  did  not  know  what  was  going  on 
in  the  posterior  half.  Cerebral  consciousness  of 
disturbance  did  not  exist.  In  the  uninj  ured  frog 
cerebral  consciousness  ^  of  irritation  existed,  and 
was  an  element  in  the  animal's  sensation.  This 
experiment  discloses  an  element  in  the  process  of 

1  Consciousness  is  not  used  here  iu  its  metaphysical  sense,  but 
only  to  discriminate  cerebral  sensation  in  the  frog  from  spinal 
sensation.  Some  persons  might  deny  the  existence  of  any  met- 
aphysical consciousness. 


VISIONS.  69 

sensation,  additional  to  those  previously  ascer- 
tained. Besides  local  irritation,  intercommunica- 
tion, and  sj)inal  consciousness,  there  is  cerebral 
consciousness. 

This  does  not  exhaust  the  matter.  Let  us  com- 
pare the  condition  of  a  frog,  of  which  the  spinal 
cord  is  sound,  and  of  which  all  its  nerves,  running 
from  the  centre  to  the  periphery,  are  uninjured, 
but  which  has  been  deprived  of  its  cerebral  hem- 
ispheres, with  a  perfectly  sound  animal.  Such  a 
frog  will  hop  away,  if  disturbed ;  withdraw  its 
foot,  if  the  latter  is  irritated ;  croak  cheerfully,  if 
its  back  is  gently  stroked,  and  avoid  obstacles  in 
the  way  of  its  leap.  In  all  these  respects,  it  will 
act  and  appear  like  a  sound  frog.  Yet  there  is 
a  remarkable  difference  between  it  and  a  sound 
one.  What  this  difference  is,  let  Dr.  Ferrier  state  : 
"  The  brainless  frog,  unless  disturbed  by  any  form 
of  peripherical  stimulus,  will  sit  forever  quiet  in 
the  same  spot  and  become  converted  into  a  mum- 
my. All  spontaneous  action  is  annihilated.  Its 
past  expeiience  has  been  blotted  out,  and  it  ex- 
hibits no  fear  in  circumstances  which  otherwise 
would  cause  it  to  retire  or  flee  from  danger.  It 
will  sit  quite  still  if  the  hand  be  put  forth  cau- 
tiously to  seize  it,  but  will  retreat  if  a  brusque 
movement  is  made  close  to  its  eyes.  Surrounded 
by  plenty  it  will  die  of  starvation  ;  but,  unlike 
Tantalus,  it  has  no  psychical  suffering,  no  de- 
sire and  no  will  to  supply  its  physical  wants."* 

^   The    Functions    of  the   Brain,   by  David    Ferrier,   M.  D., 
?.  R.  S.,  Am.  ed.,  p.  35. 


60  VISIONS. 

By  this  experiment  another  element,  ideation,  is 
taken  away  from  the  process  of  sensation.  Voli- 
tion, the  final  cause  of  all  sensation,  is  also  re- 
moved. 

The  previous  analysis  shows  that  sensation,  in 
its  common  acceptation,  comprehends  five  distinct 
elements  :  namely,  local  impression,  communica- 
tion, spinal  consciousness,  cerebral  consciousness, 
and  ideation ;  all  of  which  are  the  necessai'y  an- 
tecedents of  volition. 

The  process  which  has  just  been  described,  and 
which  is  familiar  to  physiologists  as  conscious 
and  unconscious  reflex  action,  is  the  type  of  the 
most  complex,  as  well  as  of  the  simplest,  sensa- 
tions. It  is  the  only  mode  of  activity  which 
science  can  discern,  either  in  the  spinal  cord  or 
the  brain.  Those  who  do  not  believe  in  the  free- 
dom of  the  will  regard  volition  as  the  culmina- 
tion and  subtlest  form  of  reflex  action  ;  and  those 
who  take  an  opposite  view  admit  that  volition  can 
be  exerted  only  through  the  machinery  of  reflex 
action. 

Sight  is  sensation.  Yet  it  is  a  much  more  com- 
plicated process  than  the  one  just  described  ;  and, 
consequently,  requires  for  its  accomplishment  a 
much  more  complicated  apparatus  than  answers 
for  that ;  still  it  is  essentially  the  same,  and  can 
be  reduced  to  the  same  elements.  In  the  process 
of  visual  sensation,  there  are  the  local  impression 
of  light  on  the  eye,  corresponding  to  the  local  in- 
jury of  the  frog's   foot ;    communication,  or   tel- 


VISIONS.  61 

egraphing,  by  means  of  the  optic  nerve,  to  the 
tubei'cula  quadrigemina,  like  that  from  the  frog's 
foot  to  its  spine  ;  perception  of  the  communica- 
tion, or  telegram,  by  the  tubercula  quadrigemina, 
corresponding  to  the  spinal  consciousness  of  the 
frog;  telegraphing  of  the  perception  by  the  tu- 
bercula quadrigemina  to  a  higher  centre,  the  an- 
gular gyrus ;  and  communication  from  the  latter 
to  the  frontal  convolutions,  and  consequent  idea- 
tion. The  two  last  centres  and  their  functions, 
which  are  largely  developed  and  distinctly  differ- 
entiated in  man,  correspond  to  the  cerebral  hem- 
ispheres and  cerebral  consciousness  of  the  frog. 

This  simple  enumeration  of  the  different  stages 
in  the  process  of  vision  is  not  sufficient  for  our 
purpose.  It  is  necessary  to  exainine  the  process 
more  in  detail  ;  and  it  will  contribute  both  to 
convenience  and  clearness  of  statement,  to  do  this 
by  describing  each  of  its  steps  or  stages  as  a  dis- 
tinct function  of  a  distinct  part  of  the  visual  ap- 
paratus ;  that  is,  to  point  out  the  part  which  is 
performed  in  the  process  of  vision  by  the  eye, 
the  tubercula  quadrigemina,  the  centres  of  vision 
in  the  hemispheres,  the  frontal  convolutions,  and 
the  connecting  nerve  trunks. 

The  function  of  the  eye  naturally  demands  at- 
tention first.  This  organ  receives  the  impression 
of  the  waves  of  light  through  the  iris,  and,  stim- 
ulated by  them,  is  enabled  to  ascertain  approx- 
imately the  color  and  varying  shades  of  color, 
the  form,  outline,  size,  solidity,  position,  distance, 


62  VISIONS. 

direction,  and  movement  of  objects.  Dr.  Dalton 
says :  "  Of  all  the  properties  and  functions  be- 
longing to  the  different  structures  of  the  eyeball 
the  most  peculiar  and  characteristic  is  the  special 
sensibility  of  the  retina.  This  sensibility  is  such 
that  the  retina  appreciates  both  the  intensity  and 
the  quality  of  the  light  —  that  is  to  say,  its  color 
and  the  different  shades  which  this  color  may  pre- 
sent. On  account  of  the  form,  also,  in  which  the 
retina  is  constructed,  namely,  that  of  a  spheroidal 
membranous  bag,  with  an  opening  in  front,  it  be- 
comes capable  of  appreciating  the  direction  from 
which  the  rays  of  light  have  come,  and,  of  course, 
the  situation  of  the  luminous  body,  and  of  its  dif- 
ferent parts.  For  the  rays  which  enter  through  the 
pupil  from  below  can  reach  the  retina  only  at  its 
upper  part,  while  those  which  come  in  from  above 
can  reach  it  only  at  its  lower  part ;  so  that  in  both 
instances  the  rays  strike  the  sensitive  surface  per- 
pendicularly, and  thus  convey  the  impression  of 
their  direction  from  above  or  below."  ^  Form  and 
outline  are  ascertained  by  means  of  the  crystal- 
line lens,  which,  aided  by  the  other  refracting  and 
transparent  media  of  the  eyeball,  produce  a  suffi- 
cient convergence  of  the  luminous  rays  to  accom- 
plish this  object. 

"  Our  impressions,"  says  the  eminent  physiol- 
ogist just  quoted,  "  of  distance  and  solidity,  in 
viewing  external  objects,  are  produced  mainly  by 

1  A  IVeatise  on  Human  P/ii/siolo[/y,  by  John  C.  Dalton,  Jr., 
M.  D.,  3d  ed.,  p.  494. 


VISIONS.  63 

the  combined  action  of  the  two  eyes.  For,  as  the 
eyes  are  seated  a  certain  distance  apart  from  each 
other  in  the  head,  when  they  are  both  directed 
toward  the  same  object  their  axes  meet  at  the 
point  of  sight,  and  form  a  certain  angle  with  each 
other  ;  and  this  angle  varies  with  the  distance  of 
the  object.  Thus,  when  the  object  is  within  a  short 
distance,  the  axes  of  the  two  eyes  will  necessarily 
be  very  convergent,  and  the  angle  which  they 
form  with  each  other  a  large  one  ;  but  for  remote 
objects,  the  visual  axes  will  become  more  nearly 
parallel,  and  their  angle  consequently  smaller. 
It  is  on  this  account  that  we  can  always  distin- 
guish whether  any  person  at  a  short  distance  is 
looking  at  us,  or  at  some  other  object  in  our  di- 
rection ;  since  we  instinctively  appreciate  from 
the  appearance  of  the  eyes,  whether  their  visual 
axes  meet  at  the  level  of  our  own  face."  ^  Ac- 
cording to  the  same  author,  "  the  combined  action 
of  the  two  eyes  is  also  very  valuable  for  near  ob- 
jects, in  giving  us  an  idea  of  solidity  or  projec- 
tion. For,  within  a  certain  distance,  the  visual 
axes  when  directed  together  at  a  solid  object  are 
so  convergent  that  the  two  eyes  do  not  receive  the 
same  image."  The  ability  to  accommodate  it- 
self to  different  distances,  which  the  eye  possesses 
within  certain  limits,  and  which  is  accomplished 
by  means  of  an  antero-posterior  movement  of  the 
crystalline  lens,  enables  it  to  measure,  approxi- 
mately, the  distance  of  objects.     The  movement 

1  Dalton,  op.  cit.,  pp.  .501,  502. 


64  VISIONS. 

of  the  eyeball  in  various  directions,  by  which  it 
follows  a  moving  object,  as  a  bird  flying  or  a  man 
walking,  gives  to  it  the  power  of  recognizing  and 
estimating  motion.  The  sensibility  and  response 
of  the  retina  to  the  almost  inconceivable  velocity 
of  the  waves  of  light,  by  which  that  membrane 
recognizes  color  and  varying  shades  of  color,  has 
already  been  noticed.  These,  and  similar  impor- 
tant data  of  the  motion,  direction,  distance,  and 
character  of  external  bodies,  are  all  collected  and 
registered  by  the  eye,  and  reported  through  the 
optic  nerve  to  the  tubercula  quadrigemina  and 
the  brain.  In  the  performance  of  this  duty  the 
eye  accomplishes  a  purely  automatic  or  mechan- 
ical task,  in  which  consciousness  takes  no  part, 
and  over  which  volition  has  no  control.  The  eye 
receives  and  measures  the  impressions  made  upon 
it  by  light,  as  thermometers,  barometers,  and  rain- 
gauges  measure  and  register  meteorological  phe- 
nomena. 

This  then  is  the  function  of  the  eye,  to  collect 
the  data  out  of  which  vision  is  constructed,  but 
not  to  perform  the  office  or  be  charged  with  the 
responsibility  of  sight. 

Two  questions  now  present  themselves  :  What 
is  sent  through  the  optic  nerve  ?  and  how  is  it 
sent?  The  ancients  supposed  that  minute  and 
invisible  images  were  thrown  off  by  sensible  ob- 
jects, which  entered  the  eye  and  passed  thence  to 
the  brain,  where  they  were  perceived.  Philoso- 
phers of  later  times  substituted  for  this  fanciful 


VISIONS.  .  65 

theory  an  equally  fanciful  and  uniutelligible  one, 
that  ideas,  which  were  supposed  to  be  exact  copies 
of  objects,  were  the  media  by  which  the  mind 
takes  cognizance  of  the  external  world.  When 
it  was  ascertained  that  images  of  objects  were 
formed  by  luminous  rays  on  the  retina,  as  in  a 
mirror,  the  theory  of  the  intervention  of  ideas 
between  the  outer  world  and  the  brain  was  dis- 
carded, and  it  was  believed  that  the  retinal  image 
was  in  sonre  mysterious  way  transmitted  to  the 
brain.  The  latter  conception  prevails  somewhat 
at  the  present  time,  though  how  the  feat  is  ac- 
complished no  one  pretends  to  guess.  None  of 
these  theories  are  true.  "  The  formation  of  an 
image  on  the  retina  is  the  precursor  of  a  visual 
sensation  ;  but  this  image  is  not  transmitted  to 
the  brain.  The  oxidation  of  a  volatile  substance  is 
the  precursor  to  an  -olfactory  sensation  ;  but  this 
oxidation  is  not  transmitted  to  the  brain.  The 
destruction  of  tissue,  which  is  the  precursor  of  a 
sensation  of  a  burn,  is  not  transmitted  to  the 
brain.  That  which  is  in  each  case  transmitted 
is  the  excited  sensation."  ^  When  a  telegraphic 
operator  at  station  A  sends  a  message  to  another 
station,  B,  which  is  connected  with  A  by  a  wire^ 
he  sends  no  words,  or  hieroglyphics,  or  represen- 
tations over  the  wire,  but  employs  the  current 
of  electricity  with  which  the  wire  is  charged,  to 
operate  an  apparatus  for  writing,  or  making  sig- 

^  The  Physiology  of  Common  Life,  by  G.  H.  Lewes,  Am.  ed. 
vol.  ii.,  p.  277. 

5 


66  VISIONS. 

nals  of  some  sort  at  B  ;  the  characters  produced 
by  the  apparatus  at  B,  at  the  will  of  the  operator 
at  A,  are  deciphered  at  B,  and  thus  a  message 
is  sent  from  A  to  B.  The  operator  at  A  ob- 
serves a  military  parade,  notes  the  number,  ap- 
pearance, weapons,  officers,  and  other  character- 
istics of  the  battalion,  takes  the  whole  picture 
into  his  mind,  out  of  which  he  constructs  a  re- 
port, which  is  presented  at  B  by  means  of  the 
apparatus  in  that  station.  The  operator  at  B  re- 
constructs from  this  report  the  picture  which  the 
reporter  at  A  had  formed,  and  so  acquires  an  ac- 
curate notion  of  the  parade.  In  like  manner  the 
eye  takes  in  the  picture  —  receives  a  photographic 
impression  —  of  a  military  parade,  and  employs  the 
neurility  of  the  optic  nerve,  of  which  the  special 
excitant  is  light,  and  to  which  it  alone  responds, 
to  set  in  motion  an  apparatus  in  the  tubercula 
quadrigemina,  by  the  action  of  which  a  picture 
or  notion  of  the  parade  is  reproduced  in  the 
quadrigeminal  station.  Thus  every  impression 
which  is  photographed  on  the  retina  of  the  eye  is 
reproduced  in  the  tubercula  quadrigemina,  though 
it  by  no  means  follows  that  the  same  physical 
appearance  or  condition  which  light  produces  in 
the  eye  is  repeated  at  tlie  other  extremity  of  the 
optic  nerve.  It  is  evident,  on  tlie  contrary,  that 
no  such  repetition  can  occur,  for  the  tubercular 
apparatus  is  altogether  different  from  the  retinal 
apparatus,  and  responds  to  a  different  stimulus. 
How  the  optic  nerve  behaves,  when,  stimulated 


VISIONS.  67 

by  light  at  its  retinal  extremity,  it  sets  in  motion 
an  apparatus  at  its  quadrigeminal  extremity,  we 
do  not  know  any  more  than  we  know  how  a  wire 
behaves  when  it  conducts  electricity  from  one 
station  to  another.  Any  explanation  of  the  mat- 
ter must,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  be  more  or 
less  hypothetical.  Wundt  says,  referring  to  his 
analysis  of  the  evidence  on  this  point :  "  Nothing 
more  can  be  inferred  from  these  facts  than  that 
light  is  changed  within  the  optic  filaments  to  a 
form  of  motion,  which  corresponds  to  the  velocity 
of  the  waves  of  light,  only  within  limits  that  are 
yet  to  be  ascertained."  ^  The  hypothesis  of  Her- 
bert Spencer  is,  perhaps,  as  plausible  and  satis- 
factory as  any  which  it  is  possible  to  offer  at  the 
present  time.  "  He  looks  upon  the  stimulus  ap- 
plied to  a  sentient  surface  as  molecular  action  is- 
suing from  the  disturbing  cause,  and  transmitted 
through  the  nerve-fibre,  by  means  of  isomeric 
transformation,  to  the  nerve-cell,  in  which  the 
force  is  augmented  by  the  decomposition  of  some 
unstable  matter,  to  be  sent  again  by  isomeric 
transformation  to  the  muscular  fibre,  where  it  is 
lost  in  the  contraction  it  caused.  In  proportion 
to  the  degree  of  intensity  of  the  stimulus,  this  is 
extended  to  neighboring  nerve-cells  belonging  to 
the  same  group,  in  which,  by  decomposition  of 
their  contents,  more  nerve-force  is  liberated,  etc. 
The  transmission  of  nerve-force  he  further  sup- 

1    Grundziige   der    Physiologiscken    Psychologie,    von   Wilhelm 
Wundt,  p.  332. 


68  VISIONS. 

poses  not  to  take  place  in  the  form  of  a  continu- 
ous current,  but  rather  in  separate  waves  of  mole- 
cuhir  change,  each  wave  being  produced  by  the 
molecules  of  the  nerve-substance  falling  from  one 
of  their  isomeric  states  to  the  other ;  and  having 
fallen  in  passing,  on  increasing  the  pulse  or  shock, 
they  remain  incapable  of  doing  anything  more, 
until  they  have  resumed  their  previous  isomeric 
state.  In  this  manner,  then,  innumerable  waves 
of  nervovis  energy,  following  each  other  in  rapid 
succession,  and  constituting  a  nervous  current,  are 
produced."  ^ 

This  point  has  been  elaborated  at  length,  on 
account  of  its  importance  in  connection  with  the 
physiology  of  visions,  an  importance  which  will 
be  apparent  when  that  subject  is  discussed. 

FUNCTIONS  OF  THE   TUBERCULA  QUADRIGEMINA. 

The  tubercula  quadrigemina  form  the  first  in- 
tracranial station,  on  the  way  from  the  eye  to  the 
frontal  lobes  of  the  brain.  They  are  four  small 
but  important  bodies,  of  which  the  functions  are 
obscure,  and  till  lately  have  been  imperfectly  un- 
derstood. It  has  long  been  known  that  they  are 
essential  to  vision,  but  the  precise  office  which 
they  perform  in  connection  with  the  eye  remained 
undiscovered  until  recently,  and  now,  though  phy- 
siologists have  cleared  away  a   good   deal  of  the 

1  Transactions  of  the  American  Neurological  Association,  vol. 
i.,  p.  119.  Structure  of  the  Nervous  Tissues,  hy  H.  D.  Schmidt, 
where  H.  Spencer  is  quoted  as  above. 


VISIONS.  69 

obscurity  which  concealed  their  functions,  much  is 
to  be  done.  Fortunately  for  our  purpose,  what 
has  been  discovered  is  of  great  service  in  attempt- 
ing a  rational  explanation  of  the  phenomena  of 
pseudopia. 

Physiology  teaches  that  the  functions  of  the 
tubercula  quadrigemina  may  be  divided  into  four 
classes  :  those  connected  with  the  muscular  ap- 
paratus of  the  eye ;  those  connected  with  the 
muscular  apparatus  of  the  whole  body,  and  par- 
ticularly with  the  apparatus  of  locomotion  and 
equilibration ;  those  remotely  connected  with  emo- 
tion and  intellection ;  and  those  connected  di- 
rectly with  the  sense  of  sight.  When  carefully 
examined  it  will  appear  that  these  apparently 
diverse  functions  which  physiologists  have  local- 
ized in  the  tubercula  quadrigemina  have  an  in- 
timate connection  with  each  other,  through  the 
relation  which  sight  bears  to  muscular,  emotional, 
and  intellectual  action.  In  accordance  with  this 
generalization,  it  may  be  stated  that  the  tuber- 
cula quadrigemina  are  charged  with  the  reception 
and  transmission  of  visual  impressions,  and  with 
the  duty  of  coordinating  all  automatic  muscular 
movements,  whether  of  the  eye  or  of  the  whole 
body,  or  of  any  part  of  the  body,  which  require 
for  their  initiation  or  perfectation  the  intervention 
of  sight,  and  with  contributing  certain  reflex  vis- 
ual elements  to  general  cerebral  activity.  Thus 
regarded,  much  of  the  obscurity  and  complexity 
with  which  the  tubercula  quadrigemina  have  been 


70  VISIONS. 

invested  disappears,  and  the  mechanism  of  their 
functions  becomes  compai'atively  simple  and  intel- 
ligible. Dr.  Dalton  says,  most  happily,  that  the 
tubercula  quadrigemina  preside^  as  ganglia,  over 
the  sense  of  sight.  They  are  not  the  centre  of 
vision,  but  they  preside  over  the  process  of  vis- 
ion, and  over  all  automatic  or  reflex  actions  which 
require  vision  for  their  perfect  performance  or 
harmonious  development.  It  should  be  borne  in 
mind  that  ideated  vision,  or  what  Carpenter  would 
call  the  ideo-motor  action  of  sight,  has  its  centre, 
not  in  this  region,  but  higher  up  in  the  hemi- 
spheres. Wundt  expresses  himself  thus  :  "  We 
cannot  doubt  that  the  mechanism  by  which  sight 
directs  the  muscular  apparatus  of  our  body  is 
placed  in  the  tubercula  quadrigemina.  But  we 
should  remember  that  muscular  motions  are  per- 
formed under  the  influence  of  light  in  a  twofold 
way  :  first,  by  the  tubercula  quadrigemina  them- 
selves, where  visual  impressions  of  light  first  set 
free  those  compound  motor  reactions  which  cor- 
respond to  the  quality  and  form  of  the  impres- 
sions of  light ;  and  next  in  the  cortex,  where,  at 
the  central  termination  of  the  optic  filaments,  a 
sort  of  transference  takes  place The  di- 
rect action  of  the  tubercula  quadrigemina  is  lim- 
ited to  an  influence  over  locomotion,  locomotion 
itself  depending  on  other  causes,  and  to  the  pro- 
duction of  such  movements  as  follow  the  immedi- 
ate impression  of  light,  such  as  reflex  movements 
of  the  eye,  the  pupil,  the  eyelids,  and  efforts  to 


VISIONS.  71 

avoid  excessive  liglit.^  The  statement  of  a  few 
details  will  be  sufficient  to  justify  the  generali- 
zation which  has  just  been'  made,  and  will  also 
illustrate  the  character  of  the  quadrigeminal  func- 
tions. 

The  familiar  phenomenon  of  contraction  of  the 
pupil,  under  the  influence  of  light,  is  a  reflex  ac- 
tion, "  in  which  the  impression,"  says  Dalton,  "  re- 
ceived by  the  retina  is  transmitted  along  the  optic 
nerve  to  the  tubercula  quadrigemina.  From  the 
tubercles  a  motor  impulse  is  then  sent  out  through 
the  motor  nerves  of  the  eye  and  the  filaments  dis- 
tributed to  the  iris,  and  a  contraction  of  the  pupil 
takes  place  in  consequence."  In  this  way  the  tu- 
bercles regulate  the  amount  and  intensity  of  light 
falling  upon  the  retina.  In  like  manner,  those 
movements  of  the  eyeball,  which  are  necessary  to 
guide  and  preserve  the  axes  of  the  eyes  in  any 
direction  required  for  the  purposes  of  vision,  are 
reflexes  from  the  tubercula  quadrigemina.  When 
a  seamstress  undertakes  to  thread  a  needle,  the 
pupils  of  her  eyes  are  adjusted  to  the  surrounding 
light,  her  eyeballs  to  the  appropriate  axis  of  vis- 
ion, the  position  of  her  head  to  the  requirements 
of  her  eyeballs,  and  the  movements  of  her  arms 
and  fingers  to  the  act  of  entering  the  thread  into 
the  eye  of  the  needle.  All  the  muscular  machin- 
ery necessary  to  the  execution  of  this  complicated 
manoeuvre  is  coordinated  with  light  so  as  to  ac- 
complish the  purpose,  by  the  tubercula  quadrigem- 

1  Wundt,  op.  cit.,  pp.  194,  195. 


72  VISIONS. 

ina.  It  is  not  a  difficult  task  to  balance  the  body 
on  one  foot,  for  a  few  moments,  with  the  eyes 
open.  Let  the  same  experiment  be  tried  with  the 
eyes  shut,  and  the  difficulty  of  steadily  maintain- 
ing an  equilibrium  is  vastly  increased.  In  the 
last  case,  the  muscles  are  guided  and  controlled  in 
their  effort  to  preserve  a  firm,  upright  posture  by 
•  the  muscular  sense  alone  ;  in  the  former  case,  the 
muscular  sense  is  supplemented  by  sight ;  and 
such  aid  is  rendered  possible  by  the  mediation  of 
the  tubercles,  which  coordinate  visual  impressions 
with  muscular  effort.  In  this  action,  as  in  many 
others,  the  muscles  can  be  trained  to  act  without 
the  aid  of  the  eye,  but  their  perfect  working  can 
be  secured  only  in  the  manner  indicated.  It  is  a 
long  and  laborious  process  for  a  child  to  learn  to 
walk,  but  after  the  art  is  acquired,  walking  is  so 
far  automatic,  that  it  is  accomplished  with  appar- 
ent unconsciousness  ;  yet,  let  a  person  close  his 
eyes  when  walking,  and  his  gait  immediately  be- 
comes insecure.  Here  again  it  is  by  means  of  the 
tubercula  quadrigemina  that  a  muscular  effort  is 
rendered  easy  and  perfect,  which  would  otherwise 
be  difficult  and  imperfect. 

If  the  tubercula  quadrigemina  are  destroyed, 
leaving  other  parts  of  the  brain  intact,  an  experi- 
ment which  has  been  performed  on  frogs,  fishes, 
rabbits  pigeons,  dogs,  and  monkeys,  the  result  is 
that,  while  with  the  exception  of  loss  of  sight  all 
the  senses  are  preserved,  marked  disturbances  of 
equilibrium  and  loco-motor  coordination  are  pro- 


VISIONS.  73 

duced,  "  In  rabbits,  disorganization  of  tlie  cor- 
pora quadrigemina  causes  blindness,  with  dilata- 
tion and  immobility  of  the  pupils,  and  also  very- 
marked  disturbances  of  equilibrium  and  locomo- 
tion. While  still  capable  of  making  coordinated 
movements  of  all  four  limbs  on  reflex  stimulation, 
or  when  held  up  by  the  tail,  they  could  neither 
stand  nor  walk,  but  rolled  over  from  side  to 
side."  ^  The  experiments  of  physiologists  justify 
the  assertion  that  the  optic  tubercles  are  not  only 
essential  to  vision  and  to  irido-ocular  motion,  but 
that  they  form  an  essential  part  of  the  central 
mechanism,  by  which  visual  impressions  are  co- 
ordinated with  equilibrium,  locomotion,  and  all 
muscular  effort  requiring  light  for  its  best  results. 
The  relations  of  visual  impressions  to  corporeal 
movements  are  not  exhausted  by  the  functions  of 
the  tubercula  quadrigemina.  It  is  probable  that 
such  impressions  are  still  further  elaborated  in  the 
thalami  optici.  Wundt  suggests,  "  that  the  con- 
nection of  visual  impressions  with  corporeal  move- 
ments, which  are  partly  determined  in  the  optic 
tubercles,  may  be  perfected  in  the  optic  thalami, 
through  the  filaments  which  can  be  traced  from 
the  latter  to  the  optic  tract.  Inasmuch  as  the 
same  motor  mechanism,  which  is  regulated  by  the 
organ  of  tact,  can  also  be  excited  by  the  organ 
of  sight,  it  is  conceivable  that  such  an  arrange- 
ment would  essentially  contribute  to  the  simplifi- 
cation of  the  central  function."  2     Dr.  E.  Tourni^ 

1  Ferrier's  Functions  of  the  Brain,  p.  74,  Am.  ed. 

2  Wundt,  op.  cit.,  p.  201. 


74  VISIONS. 

has  been  led  still  further  in  the  same  direction  by 
his  experiments.  He  destroyed  the  optic  thalami 
of  dogs  by  an  injection  of  chloride  of  zinc,  and 
inferred  therefrom,  that  the  optic  thalami  are  the 
"  unique  centre  "  of  perception,  and  of  the  coor- 
dination of  perception  with  all  the  other  senses, 
and  with  all  bodily  movements.  His  experiments 
do  not  fully  bear  out  his  conclusions,  and  other 
investigators  have  not  confirmed  his  views  in  this 
respect.  Nevertheless,  it  may  be  safely  affirmed, 
that  the  functions  of  the  o]3tic  thalami  sustain  an 
intimate  relation  to  those  of  the  tubercula  quad- 
rigemina.  The  two  centres  are  anatomical  neigh- 
bors and  physiological  partners.  What  the  precise 
character  and  limits  of  their  separate  functions 
are  must  be  left  to  the  decision  of  physiologists  ; 
it  is  sufficient  for  the  purpose  of  a  rational  ex- 
planation of  the  phenomena  of  pseudopia  to  know, 
that  between  the  eye  and  the  cerebral  hemi- 
spheres, there  is  a  region  where  visual  impressions, 
proceeding  from  the  eye,  are  transformed,  classi- 
fied, and  coordinated  with  other  sensory  impres- 
sions, whence  they  are  transmitted  to  the  hem- 
ispheres, there  to  be  still  further  elaborated,  and 
made  the  basis  of  ideation  and  volition. 

The  relation  of  visual  impressions  to  emotion 
and  intellection  are  more  subtle  and  obscure,  but 
not  less  real,  than  those  which  have  just  been 
described.  It  is  difficult,  perhaps  impossible,  to 
demonstrate,  experimentally,  where  and  how  such 
impressions   are    coordinated   with   emotion   and 


VISIONS.  75 

thousflit,  but  the  inference  from  the  data  af- 
forded  by  physiology,  pathology,  and  clinical  ob- 
servation, is  conclasive,  that  such  coordination 
takes  place,  and  that  the  work  is  partially  accom- 
plished by  the  tubercula  quadrigemina.  A  priori 
considerations  yield  a  presumption,  which  almost 
amounts  to  a  demonstration,  of  the  truth  of  this 
statement.  A  world  of  beauty,  emotion,  and  ideas 
floods  the  brain  through  the  eye.  Sight  is  the 
medium,  by  which  the  beauty  of  the  human  face 
and  form,  and  of  all  external  life,  is  presented  to 
us  ;  by  which  the  varying  expressions  of  passion 
and  thought,  of  hope,  joy,  and  pain,  are  discrimi- 
nated ;  and  by  which  we  take  hold  of  a  large  por- 
tion of  the  pleasures,  sorrows,  and  possibilities  of 
our  mundane  existence.  It  would  be  strange  if  a 
messenger,  bearing  such  messages  and  laden  with 
such  treasures,  were  not  admitted  into  the  inmost 
recesses  of  the  brain,  and  brought  into  contact 
with  every  cerebral  function.  It  cannot  be  other- 
wise. Sight  must  influence  all  cerebral  functions. 
Ferrier,  whose  caution  and  judicial  fairness  en- 
hance the  value  of  his  conclusions,  says :  "  The 
foregoing  considerations  on  the  relation  between 
the  phenomena  of  irritation  and  destruction  of  the 
corpora  quadrigemina,  though  in  many  respects 
professedly  only  of  a  hypothetical  nature,  tend  to 
support  the  view  that  these  ganglia  are  the  cen- 
tres specially  concerned  in  the  reflex  expression  of 
feeling  or  emotion.  This  is  rendered  still  more 
probable  by  the  recently  demonstrated  influence 


76  VISIONS. 

which  the  corpora  quadrigemina,  or  more  properly, 
the  deeper  parts  of  the  corpora  quadrigemina, 
exert  on  the  functions  of  circulation  and  respira- 
tion, modifications  of  which  are  one  of  the  most 
frequent  concomitants  of  states  of  feeling  or  emo- 
tion." ^  In  another  place  he  adds:  "The  feel- 
ings accompanying  the  more  intellectual  senses, 
sight  and  hearing,  are  the  primordial  elements  of 
aesthetic  emotions  which  are  founded  on  harmo- 
nies of  sight  and  sound."  ^  It  is  as  necessary  that 
crude  visual  impressions  should  be  somewhere 
elaborated,  classified,  and  prepared,  after  leaving 
the  eye,  so  as  to  fit  them  for  the  use  of  the  higher 
cerebral  centres,  where  ideation  goes  on  ;  or  in 
other  words,  so  as  to  coordinate  them  with  the 
higher  centres,  as  that  this  process  should  be 
performed,  in  order  to  coordinate  them  with  the 
lower  centres  of  motor  activities. 

The  most  important  function  of  the  tubercula 
quadrigemina  remains  to  be  mentioned.  The  tu- 
bercles are  the  centre  of  the  sense  of  sight,  though 
not  of  the  higher  forms  of  conscious  vision.  Dal- 
ton  teaches  that  "  direct  experiment  also  shows 
the  close  connection  between  the  tubercula  quad- 
rigemina and  the  sense  of  sight.  Section  of  the 
optic  nerve  at  any  point  between  the  retina  and 
the  tubercles  produces  complete  blindness ;  and 
destruction  of  the  tubercles  themselves  has  the 
same  effect.     But  if  the  division  be  made  between 

1  Ferrier,  op.  cit.,  p.  83. 

2  Ibid.,  p.  260. 


s>Mmm. 


VISIONS.  77 

the  tubercles  and  the  cerebrum,  or  if  the  cere- 
brum itself  be  taken  away  while  the  tubercles  are 
left  untouched,  vision,  as  we  have  already  seen, 
still  remains.  It  is  the  tubercles,  therefore,  in 
which  the  impression  of  light  is  perceived.  So 
long  as  these  ganglia  are  uninjured,  and  retain 
their  connection  with  the  eye,  vision  remains. 
As  soon  as  this  connection  is  cut  off,  or  the  gan- 
glia themselves  are  injured,  the  power  of  vision  is 
destroyed."  ^  Visual  impressions  first  come  with- 
in the  sphere  or  domain  of  consciousness  when 
they  reach  the  tubercula  quadrigemina.  Then 
they  are  first  perceived  by  the  ego.  The  eye, 
with  its  lenses,  membranes,  tubes,  and  cells, 
silently  and  unconsciously  performs  the  task  of 
collecting  visual  data,  which  data  the  optic  nerve 
with  equal  unconsciousness  transmits  to  the  tuber- 
cles. Arrived  at  that  point  they  are  recognized 
by  consciousness. 

The  visual  functions  of  the  tubercula  quadri- 
gemina which  have  been  described  suggest  our  two 
next  inquiries :  (1.)  What  is  the  mechanism,  and 
what  the  process,  by  which  the  optic  tubercles, 
after  receiving  a  visual  telegram  from  the  eye, 
transform  and  transmit  it  to  the  hemispheres  ? 
(2.)  What  kind  of  visual  joerception  occurs  in  the 
tubercles  ?  Is  it  the  same  as  that  which  occurs 
in  the  hemispheres,  or  is  perception  in  the  former 
different  from  perception  in  the  latter  ?  A  satis- 
factory answer  to  these  two  questions  would  go 

1  Diiltou's  Ph/jsiology,  p.  435. 


78  VISIONS. 

a  great  way  towards  solving  the  problem  of  pseii- 
dopia.  Unfortunately,  neither  of  these  can  be 
answered,  in  the  present  condition  of  physiological 
science,  with  the  fulness  and  certainty  which  are 
desirable ;  but  if  a  complete  answer  is  impossible, 
a  partial  one  can  be  given. 

The  inquiry  which  concei'ns  the  character  of 
the  machinery  of  the  optic  tubercles,  and  the 
manner  of  its  action,  naturally  demands  consid- 
eration first. 

The  tubercula  quadrigemina  are  ganglia  of  the 
nervous  apparatus,  and  resemble  in  their  con- 
struction other  ganglia,  which  may  be  found  at- 
tached to  the  nerves  in  every  part  of  the  organi- 
zation. In  its  simplest  form,  a  ganglion  is  the 
junction,  knotenpunkte,  the  Germans  call  it,  by 
■which  an  afferent  nerve  is  connected  with  an  ef- 
ferent nerve,  and  is  also  the  workshop  where  the 
effect  of  a  sensory  stimulus,  carried  thither  by 
an  afferent  nerve,  is  transformed  into  a  motor 
stimulus,  and  sent  out  to  excite  motion.  The 
annexed  diagram  roughly  represents  this  sim- 
ple, but  efficient  and  marvellous,  mechanical  con- 
trivance. 


3T.. 


G) 

Fig.  1.  Diagram  of  ganglionic  macliinery.  S.  Point  of  sensation,  s.  n. 
Sensory  nerve,  g.  Ganglion  or  workshop,  m.  n.  Motor  nerre.  M.  Point  of 
motion. 

When  a  sensory  stimulus  acts  at  S.  informa- 


VISIONS.  79 

tion  of  the  occurrence  is  sent  through  the  sensory- 
nerve,  s.  n.,  to  the  ganghon,  g.  The  message,  re- 
ceived and  read  at  g.,  is  acknowledged  by  put- 
ting the  ganglionic  machinery  in  action  and  send- 
ing through  the  motor  nerve,  m.  n.,  a  correspond- 
ing message  to  a  motor  apparatus  at  iHf.,  whei^e, 
on  receipt  of  the  message  (transferred  stimulus), 
motion  is  produced.  The  ganglion  receives  and 
deciphers  a  message  from  one  direction,  and  pre- 
pares and  dispatches  a  corresponding  message  in 
another  direction.  When  the  machinery  acts  nor- 
mally, as  it  does  in  the  vast  majority  of  cases,  no 
message  is  ever  dispatched  by  the  ganglion,  g.,  to 
w.,  except  in  response  to  a  communication  from  s. 
Under  certain  abnormal  conditions,  however,  it  is 
possible  for  a  ganglion  to  act  spontaneously,  and 
send  an  order  without  having  received  one.  When 
this  occurs,  the  operator  at  m.  is  deceived,  sup- 
poses a  communication  has  been  received  from  s., 
and  acts  accordingly.  It  would  anticipate  the 
order  of  our  subject  to  do  more  than  allude  to 
this  important  physiological  fact  in  this  connec- 
tion. Its  bearing  upon  pseudopia  will  be  pointed 
out  in  another  place. 

Such  is  the  office  of  a  ganglion  of  the  sim- 
plest character  ;  and  such,  essentially,  is  the  office 
of  ganglia  of  the  most  complex  character ;  of 
those  charged  with  the  highest  cerebral  functions. 
All  are,  of  course,  provided  with  the  machinery 
for  receiving,  deciphering,  and  dispatching  mes- 
sages.    The  tubercula  quadrigemina  are  no  ex- 


80  VISIONS. 

ception  to  this  statement.  They  are  ganglia, 
ganghonic  workshops,  placed  between  the  eye 
and  the  hemispheres,  and  charged  with  the  func- 
tions which  have  been  described.  Their  appara- 
tus, like  that  of  other  ganglia,  consists  of  cells, 
fibres,  blood-vessels,  and  connective  tissue,  en- 
closed by  a  protecting  membrane. 

Of  this  mechanism  the  cells  form  the  most  im- 
portant part,  and  should  be  carefully  studied. 
They  vary  in  shape  and  size.  Some  are  round 
and  some  oval ;  others  oblong,  spindle-shaped, 
triangular,  or  radiated.  They  are  armed  with  one 
or  more  prolongations,  upon  which  their  shape 
largely  depends,  and  by  which  the  fibres  connect- 
ing them  with  other  cells  and  other  tissues,  enter 
and  depart.  The  forms  which  occur  most  fre- 
quently in  ganglionic  and  nerve  tissue  are  repre- 
sented in  Fig.  2. 

Cells  are  as  variable  in  size  as  in  shape.  Mr. 
Bain  tells  us  that  nerve  cells  range  from  ^^^  to 
s^^o  of  an  inch  in  diameter.  According  to  the 
same  authority,  the  nerve  filaments,  which  enter 
and  leave  cells,  range  from  j^'^jo  to  x^o o o o^  of  ^.n 
inch  in  thickness.  Each  cell  contains  an  eccen- 
tric, globular  body,  called  its  nucleus,  enclosing  a 
still  smaller  body,  known  as  the  nucleolus ;  one 
packed  within  the  other,  like  a  nest  of  boxes. 
The  space  between  the  investing  membrane,  nu- 
cleus and  nucleolus,  is  filled  with  minute,  albumi- 
nous granules  of  protoplasm,  which  extend  into 


:.K«dlHk 


VISIONS. 


81 


the  cellular  prolongations,  and  surround  the  nerve 
fibres  and  nerve  filaments,  entering  and  leaving 
these  avenues  (Fig.  2).  Pigment  granules  are 
also    found    among    the    protoplasmic    granules ; 


Fig. 


Vaeieties  op  Nerve  Cells,  a.  Radiated  cell  from  the  anterior  horn  of  the 
spinal  marrow  vntb.  granules  of  protoplasm,  /,  extending  into  the  prolonga- 
tions, b.  Radiated  and  triangular  cells  from  the  cerebellum,  c.  Bipolar 
ganglionic  cell,  from  the  spinal  ganglion  of  a  fish.  d.  Pyramidal  cell  from 
the  cortex  qerebri.  e.  Central  origin  of  a  nerve  filament  from  a  cell. 
f.  Granules  of  protoplasm,  g.  Nucleus,  enclosing  nucleolus  (after  Wundt), 
pp.  29,  30. 


sometimes  equally  distributed  among  the  latter, 
and  sometimes  collected  in  heaps  by  themselves. 
(Wundt).  Lastly,  there  is  that  important  ele- 
ment, the  blood,  which  circulates  with  such  free- 
dom among  these  corpuscles,  that,  according  to 

6 


82  VISIONS. 

the  computation  of  Herbert  Spencer,  as  reported 
by  Mr.  Bain,  five  times  as  much  blood  flows 
around  and  among  the  corpuscles,  as  in  other  por- 
tions of  nerve  tissue. 

It  is  diflScult,  perhaps  impossible,  to  make  an 
accurate  estimate  of  the  number  of  fibres,  cells, 
and  granules,  which  v^ith  blood-vessels  make  up 
the  tubercula  quadrigemina.  An  approximative 
notion,  however,  may  be  formed  by  computing  the 
number  which  the  hemispheres  of  the  brain  con- 
tain, comparing  the  size  of  the  hemispheres  with 
that  of  the  tubercles,  and  then  estimating  the  pro- 
portionate number  in  the  latter.  The  tubercles 
are  not  less  rich  in  cells  than  the  brain.  "  The 
thin  cake  of  gray  substance  surrounding  the  hem- 
ispheres of  the  brain,  and  extended  into  many 
doublings  by  the  furrowed  or  convoluted  structure, 
is  somewhat  difficult  to  measure.  It  has  been  es- 
timated at  upwards  of  300  square  inches,  or  as 
nearly  equal  to  a  square  surface  of  18  inches  in 
the  side.  Its  thickness  is  variable,  but,  on  an  aver- 
age, it  may  be  stated  at  one  tenth  of  an  inch.  It 
is  the  largest  accumulation  of  gray  matter  in  the 
body.  It  is  made  up  of  several  layers  of  gray  sub- 
stance, divided  by  layers  of  white  substance.  The 
gray  substance  is  a  nearly  compact  mass  of  corpus- 
cles, of  variable  size.  The  large  caudate  nerve-cells 
are  mingled  with  very  small  corpuscles,  less  tlian 
the  thousandth  of  an  inch  in  diameter.  Allowing 
for  intervals,  we  may  suppose  that  a  linear  row  of 
five  hundred  cells  occupies  an  inch,  for  three  hun- 


VISIONS.  83 

dred  inches.  If  one  half  of  the  thickness  of  the 
layer  is  made  up  of  fibres,  the  corpuscles  or  cells, 
taken  by  themselves,  would  be  a  mass  one  twenti- 
eth of  an  inch  thick,  say  sixteen  cells  in  the  depth. 
Multiplying  these  numbers  together,  we  should 
reach  a  total  of  twelve  hundred  millions  of  cells  in 
the  gray  covering  of  the  hemispheres.  As  every 
cell  is  united  with  at  least  two  fibres,  often  many 
more,  we  may  multiply  this  number  by  four,  for 
the  number  of  connecting  fibres  attached  to  the 
mass ;  which  gives  four  thousand  eight  hundred 
millions  of  fibres."  ^  According  to  this  computa- 
tion, the  cerebral  hemispheres  contain,  in  round 
numbers,  one  thousand  millions  of  corpuscles,  and 
five  thousand  millions  of  fibres.  If  the  optic  tu- 
bercles equal  in  size  only  a  thousandth  part  of  the 
hemispheres,  they  would  contain  one  million  of 
corpuscles,  five  millions  of  fibres,  and  from  five  to 
ten  millions  of  protoplasmic  and  pigmentary  gran- 
ules. Evidently,  here  is  sufficient  material  for 
whatever  grouping  or  action  may  be  necessary  to 
receive,  register,  and  report  the  most  vai'ied  visual 
experience  of  the  longest  human  life. 

Nothing  is  known,  and  nothing  probably  ever 
will  be  known  of  the  groupings,  combinations,  and 
metamorphoses  of  cells,  corpuscles,  and  granules, 
by  means  of  which  visual  impressions  forwarded 
to  the  tubercula  quadrigemina  by  the  eye,  are 
interpreted,  recorded,  and  transmitted  to  the  vis- 

1  Mind  and  Body,  by  Alexander  Baiu,  LL.  D.,  Am.  ed., 
pp.  106-7. 


84  VISIONS. 

ual  centre  of  the  hemispheres.  We  know,  how- 
ever, that  the  constituent  elements  of  the  optic 
tubercles  admit  of  mechanical,  thermal,  and  chem- 
ical action,  and  it  is  conceivable  that  all  of  these 
agencies  may  be  employed  in  visual  operations. 
Corpuscles  and  granules  are  highly  unstable  ele- 
ments, easily  decomposed  and  destroyed,  and  easi- 
ly reproduced.  Their  decomposition  liberates  a 
certain  amount  of  nervous  energy,  which  may  be 
used  to  reinforce  the  original  sensory  stimulus,  as 
the  relay  of  a  battery  reinforces  an  electric  cur- 
rent, or  to  perform  some  other  work.  "  Gangli- 
onic cells,"  says  Wundt,  "possess  in  a  high  de- 
gree the  power  of  developing  and  intensifying  the 
stimulus  they  receive."  In  the  case  of  the  tuber- 
cula  quadrigemina,  this  power  may  be  exerted, 
not  only  for  the  purpose  of  forwarding  with  in- 
creased energy  to  the  hemispheres  a  visual  im- 
pression which  has  been  received,  but  for  oper- 
ations within  the  ganglia,  by  which  recording, 
coordination,  and  signaling  are  effected.  The  de- 
composition of  one  or  more  granules  by  the  spark 
of  a  visual  stimvilus,  like  the  explosion  of  one  or 
more  grains  of  gunpowder  by  a  spark  of  elec- 
tricity, may  be  the  tubercular  signal  of  a  red  color, 
or  the  force  which  groups  two  or  more  corpuscles 
in  a  form  to  signify  a  red  color ;  or  the  force  to 
induce  a  chemical  change,  which  shall  coordinate 
sight  with  corporeal  movements. 

The  following  diagram,  Fig.  3,  may  serve  to 
illustrate  the  conceivable  action  of  the  tubercula 


VISIONS. 


85 


quadrigeraina  under  the  influence  of  a  visual  im- 
pression,—  that  of  an  uplifted  dagger,  for  example. 
Let  R  indicate  the  retina  of  the  eye,  upon  which 
Fig.  3. 


R,  retina  ;  A  A'  A"  fibres  of  the  optic  nerve.  I,  investing  membrane  of  the 
tubercula  quadrigemina.  B  B'  B",  group  of  visual  cells.  C  C  C"  group 
of  motor  cells.  D  D'  D"  group  of  visual  cells  in  the  hemispheres.  E  E'E" 
group  of  granules.  P  E'  F"  volitional  cells  of  the  hemispheres.  N  N  N, 
etc.,  connecting  nerve  fibres,    cf  cf,  etc.,  communicating  nerve  fibres. 

the  image  of  a  dagger,  and  of  a  hand  holding  it, 
has  been  impressed,  as  have  also  the  data,  as  to  the 
form,  position,  size,  distance,  color,  and  the  like 
(of  the  dagger  and  its  holder),  which  it  is  the 


86  VISIONS. 

office  of  the  eye  to  collect  and  transmit  (vide  pp. 
54,  64).  A  A'  A"  are  bundles  of  nerve  filaments  of 
the  optic  nerve,  by  which  the  retina  telegraphs 
the  impressions  made  upon  it  to  a  group  of  visual 
cells,  B  B'  B"  in  the  tubercula  quadrigemina, 
where  sight,  but  not  perfected  vision,  occurs. 
Each  distinct  visual  impression  goes  by  a  separate 
track  to  a  separate  cell.  From  the  group  of  vis- 
ual cells,  a  stimulus  passes  to  a  group  of  motor 
cells,  C  C  C",  by  which  sight  is  coordinated  with 
the  muscular  movements  of  the  eye  and  with 
those  of  the  whole  body,  so  far  as  these  are  called 
into  action.  At  the  same  moment  a  stimulus 
passes  from  the  visual  cells,  B  B'  B",  to  a  group 
of  cells  D  D'  D",  in  the  centre  of  vision  in  the 
hemispheres,  where  perfected  or  intelligent  vis- 
ion occurs.  Simultaneously  with  the  passage  of 
these  two  currents  of  stimulation,  a  third  passes 
from  the  visual  group,  B  B'  B",  to  a  group  of 
granules,  E  E'  E",  and  by  decomposing  them,  lib- 
erates an  amount  of  nervous  energy  proportionate 
to  the  intensity  of  the  stimulus.  The  energy 
thus  liberated  flows  through  the  conducting  nerve 
fibres  N  N  N,  to  the  motor  group  C  C  C",  and 
increases  the  action  of  that  centre  ;  it  also  flows 
back  to  the  visual  group  B  B'  B",  and  yields 
force  to  that  j  and  by  means  of  anastomosing 
nerve  fibres  supplies  force  wherever  force  is 
needed.  From  D  D'  D",  the  centre  of  vision  in 
the  hemispheres,  an  influence  passes  to  F  F'  F", 
the  hypothetical  centre  of   volition,  and  excites 


VISIONS.  87 

Ehe  will.  The  will  sends  down  through  N  N  N 
a  volitional  impulse  to  the  motor-centre  C  C  C", 
stimulates  that  to  increased  effort,  and  also,  by 
means  of  communicating  fibres,  cfcfcfy  etc.,  acts 
on  various  centres  of  voluntary  motion  so  as  to 
bring  the  whole  body  into  needful  activity.  In 
like  manner,  the  impression  made  upon  the  cen- 
tre of  vision  in  the  hemispheres  is  diffused  by  the 
nerve  fibres  cf  cf  cf,  etc.,  in  accordance  with 
Bain's  law  of  diffusion,  throughout  the  gray  mat- 
ter of  the  brain,  and  arouses  the  intellect  and  the 
emotions  as  well  as  the  will. 

This  scheme  of  visual  and  cerebral  action  is, 
of  course,  hypothetical.  Whoever  will  take  the 
trouble  to  compare  it  with  our  present  knowledge 
of  the  anatomy  and  functions  of  the  brain  will 
admit,  not  only  that  it  is  a  possible  one,  but  that 
portions  of  it  are  probable,  and  that  the  truth  of 
some  of  it  has  been  demonstrated.  It  will  serve, 
at  any  rate,  to  illustrate  some  of  the  recognized 
forms  of  cerebral  activity,  the  aid  of  which  will 
be  invoked  by  and  by  in  explanation  of  the  phe- 
nomena of  pseudopia. 

Nature  is  always  economical  of  her  resources 
and  delights  in  the  distribution  of  labor.  This  is 
strikingly  illustrated  by  the  process  of  vision  which 
we  are  studying.  Notwithstanding  the  abundant 
preparation  in  the  tubercula  quadrigemina  for  op- 
erating upon  visual  impressions,  only  a  portion 
of  the  work  is  done  there.  It  has  previously  been 
stated  that  the  eye  is  chai'ged  with  tlie  duty  of 


88  VISIONS. 

ascertaining  the  color,  form,  size,  distance,  posi- 
tion, and  movement  of  bodies,  and  of  reporting 
the  result  to  the  tubercular  station.  The  optic 
tubercles  take  up  the  process  of  vision,  where  the 
eyes  leave  it,  and  elaborate,  and  coordinate  visual 
impressions,  in  the  manner  previously  described, 
but  they  do  not  repeat,  or  authenticate  the  work 
of  the  eyes.  Simple  facts  and  combinations,  which 
are  ascertained  by  the  eye,  are  themselves  recom- 
pounded  by  the  tubercles  into  higher  combina- 
tions. "  The  eye,  by  its  optical  function,  takes 
in  grades  of  light  and  shade,  mixtures  of  white 
and  dark  in  the  series  of  grays,  and  varieties  of 
color.  A  good  eye  might  have  several  hundreds 
of  distinct  optical  gradations  in  these  various  ef- 
fects. But  the  eye  shows  its  great  compass  in 
the  plurality  of  combinations  of  points  or  surfaces 
of  different  light,  making  up  what  are  commonly 
called  images  :  compounds  of  visible  form  (muscu- 
lar) and  visible  groupings  (optical).  The  multi- 
tude of  these  that  can  be  distinctly  embodied  and 
remembered  would  seem  to  defy  computation  ;  yet 
every  one  must  have  its  own  track  in  that  laby- 
rinth of  fibres  and  corpuscles  called  the  brain."  ^ 

The  millions  of  cells,  granules,  and  fibres,  which 
constitute  the  visual  apparatus,  enable  every  pos- 
sible visual  impression  and  gradation  of  impression 
to  follow  its  own  track  to  the  brain,  and  to  have  its 
own  cell,  or  group  of  cells,  in  which  to  be  depos- 
ited and  preserved,  and   from  which   it  may  be 

1  Bain,  op.  cit.,  p.  99. 


VISIONS.  89 

derived.  It  is  evident  that  this  distribution 
of  labor,  in  accordance  with  which  the  eyes,  the 
optic  tubercles,  and  the  hemispheres,  all  perform 
their  own  part  in  the  process  of  vision,  and  which 
requires  each  lower  station,  or  bureau,  to  report 
only  its  results  to  a  higher  station,  increases  ac- 
curacy of  work,  and,  by  economizing  conducting 
lines  and  sensory  cells,  affords  an  almost  infinite 
opportunity  for  the  employment  of  separate  tracks. 
For  the  purpose  of  meteorological  investigations, 
a  dozen  or  a  hundred  stations  collect,  by  means 
of  thermometers,  barometers,  hygrometers,  and 
the  like,  all  necessary  atmospheric  data  and  re- 
port them  to  a  central  bureau,  where  they  become 
the  basis  of  comparison  and  coordination.  The 
outlying  stations  are  the  eyes,  and  the  central 
bureau,  which  collates  the  data,  are  the  optic 
tubercles  of  meteorology.  When  we  see  a  rose, 
the  eye,  by  means  of  millions  of  retinal  cells  and 
tubes,  ascertains  its  color  and  shading,  form,  size, 
position,  and  similar  data,  and  reports  them  to  the 
tubercles;  this  report  is  a  visual  impression  or 
stimulus,  which  sets  in  motion  the  tubercular 
apparatus,  and  is  the  first  intimation  which  con- 
sciousness receives  of  the  presence  and  properties 
of  the  rose. 

Entering  the  domain  of  consciousness  naturally 
suggests  the  consideration  of  the  second  question 
already  proposed ;  namely,  what  is  the  kind  of 
visual  perception,  which  consciousness  takes  cog- 


90  VISIONS. 

nizance  of  in  the  tubercula  quadrigemina  ?  What 
sort  of  conscious  sight  goes  on  there  ?  Wherein 
does  it  differ,  if  it  differs  at  all,  from  vision  in 
the  hemispheres  ? 

It  is  only  within  a  comparatively  recent  period 
that  any  attempts  have  been  made  to  answer  this 
question.  Indeed,  the  question  could  not  have 
been  raised  twenty  years  ago ;  for  physiology  had 
not  then  advanced  sufficiently  to  admit  of  its  be- 
ing asked.  Latterly  it  has  been  raised,  and  phys- 
iologists have  undertaken  to  answer  it  by  exper- 
imental researches.  Let  us  look  at  the  answer 
which  their  investigations  give. 

E.  Fournie  injected  the  optic  thalami  of  a  dog, 
so  as  to  destroy  the  communication  between  them, 
together  with  the  optic  tubercles  and  the  hemi- 
spheres, with  one  drop  of  a  solution  of  chloride  of 
zinc.  The  following,  according  to  his  report,  was 
the  result  of  his  experiment :  "  Feeling,  except 
the  sense  of  vision,  appeared  in  this  animal  to  be 
uninjured.  I  am  inclined  to  think,  however,  that 
if  he  appeared  insensible  to  the  approach  of  a 
candle,  he  was  so,  because  he  did  not  recognize 
the  character  of  the  object  and  not  because  he  did 
not  see  it.  In  fact  the  injection  had  destroyed 
the  fibres,  which  transmit  optic  perceptions  to  the 
cortical  periphery,  and  which  reciprocally  trans- 
mit the  excitement  of  the  cortical  periphery  to 
the  optic  thalami,  in  order  to  arouse  perceptions 
of  memory  in  the  latter.     It  is  possible  that  the 


VISIONS.  91 

sense  of  vision  was  preserved ;   the  animal  saw 
but  did  not  understand,  and  remained  passive. "  ^ 

In  the  following  experiments,  conducted  by  the 
same  observer,  visual  impressions  were  limited  to 
the  tubercula  quadrigemina  and  optic  thalami  by 
destroying  the  hemispheres.  It  will  be  noticed 
that  Fourni^  assigns  to  the  optic  thalami  some  of 
the  functions  which  other  physiologists  assign  to 
the  optic  tubercles.  For  our  present  purpose, 
this  is  not  important.  It  is  sufficient  to  know 
that  some  sort  of  visual  impression  and  visual 
perception  occurs  in  one  or  both  of  these  regions, 
and  that  it  differs  from  the  visual  action  of  the 
hemispheres.  The  experiments  were  eight.  This 
account  of  them  is  that  they  "  were  performed  on 
both  hemispheres  ;  consequently  they  were  as  com- 
plete as  possible.  The  seat  of  the  injection  was 
variable,  though  we  operated  regularly  on  the  an- 
terior, the  lateral  and  middle,  and  the  jjosterior 
regions.  In  no  instance  were  the  phenomena  of 
simple  perception  abolished.  The  animals  always 
smelt,  felt,  saw,  tasted,  and  touched,  and  thus  in- 
dicated that  the  phenomena  of  simple  perception 
are  manifested  in  the  optic  thalami.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  absence  of  knowledge  and  memory  was 
constant.  The  animals,  for  example,  saw  a  wall, 
but  did  not  recognize  that  it  was  an  ©bstacle,  and 
that  contact  with  it  would  be  painful.  They  per- 
mitted  a  lighted  sulphur  match  to   be   brought 

1  Recherches  Expe'rimentales,  sur  le  Fonctionnenient  du  Cerveau. 
Par  le  Dr.  Edouard  Fournie.     Paris,  1873. 


92  VISIONS. 

near  them  without  turning  the  head  aside,  forget- 
ting that  sulphur  irritates  the  olfactory  membrane. 
They  moved  to  the  right  or  left,  with  the  gait 
of  animals  which  do  not  know  where  they  are,  or 
what  they  are  doing  ;  the  organic  reservoir  of  the 
association  of  acquired  notions  had  been  destroyed, 
and  in  consequence  of  this  destruction,  memory 
was  no  longer  possible.  They  felt  by  all  their 
senses,  for  to  feel  is  to  live,  after  a  fashion,  when 
the  optic  thalarai  are  uninjured  ;  but  they  did  not 
unite  feeling  with  knowledge,  for  in  order  to  do 
this,  it  is  necessary  that  the  optic  thalami  should 
receive  a  stimulus  from  the  cortical  periphery  of 
the  brain."  ^ 

Dalton,  who  has  repeated  Longet's  experiment 
of  removing  the  hemispheres  in  pigeons,  and  con- 
firmed Longet's  results,  says  :  "  The  effect  of  this 
mutilation  is  simply  to  plunge  the  animal  into  a 
state  of  profound  stupor,  in  which  he  is  almost 
entirely  inattentive  to  surrounding  objects.  The 
bird  remains  sitting  motionless  upon  his  perch,  or 
standing  upon  the  ground,  with  the  eyes  closed 
and  the  head  sunk  between  the  shoulders.  The 
plumage  is  smooth  and  glossy,  but  is  uniformly 
expanded,  by  a  kind  of  erection  of  the  feathers, 
so  that  the  body  appears  somewhat  puffed  out, 
and  larger  than  natural.  Occasionally  the  bird 
opens  his  eyes  with  a  vacant  stare,  stretches  his 
neck,  perhaps  shakes  his  bill  once  or  twice,  or 
smooths  down  the  feathers  upon  his  shoulders,  and 

^  Fournie,  Recherckes,  p.  88. 


VISIONS.  93 

then  relapses  into  his  former  apathetic  condition. 
This  state  of  immobility,  however,  is  not  accom- 
panied by  the  loss  of  sight,  of  hearing,  or  of  ordi- 
nary sensibility.  All  these  functions  remain,  as 
well  as  that  "of  voluntary  motion.  If  a  pistol  be 
discharged  behind  the  back  of  the  animal,  he  at 
once  opens  his  eyes,  moves  his  head  half  round, 
and  gives  evident  signs  of  having  heard  the  re- 
port ;  but  he  immediately  becomes  quiet  again, 
and  pays  no  further  attention  to  it.  Sight  is  also 
retained,  since  the  bird  will  sometimes  fix  its  eye 
on  a  particular  object,  and  watch  it  for  several 
seconds  together.  Longet  has  even  found  that  by 
moving  a  lighted  candle  before  the  animal's  eyes, 
in  a  dark  place,  the  head  of  the  bird  will  often 
follow  the  movements  of  the  candle  from  side  to 
side,  or  in  a  circle,  showing  that  the  impression 
of  light  is  actually  perceived  by  the  sensorium. 
Ordinary  sensation  also  remains,  after  removal  of 
the  hemispheres,  together  with  voluntary  niotion- 
If  the  foot  be  pinched  with  a  pair  of  forceps,  the 
bird  becomes  partially  aroused,  moves  uneasily 
once  or  twice  from  side  to  side,  and  is  evidently 
annoyed  at  the  irritation." 

"  The  animal  is  still  capable,  therefore,  after 
removal  of  the  hemispheres,  of  receiving  sensa- 
tions from  external  objects.  But  these  sensations 
appear  to  make  upon  him  no  lasting  impression. 
He  is  incapable  of  connecting  with  his  perceptions 
any  distinct  succession  of  ideas.  He  hears,  for 
example,  the  report  of    a   pistol,  but  he   is   not 


94  VISIONS. 

alarmed  by  it,  for  the  sound,  though  distinctly 
enough  perceived,  does  not  suggest  any  idea  of 
danger  or  injury.  There  is  accordingly  no  power 
of  forming  mental  associations,  nor  of  perceiving 
the  relation  between  external  objects.  The  mem- 
ory, more  particularly,  is  altogether  destroyed,  and 
the  recollection  of  sensation  is  not  retained  from 
one  moment  to  another.  The  limbs  and  mus- 
cles are  still  under  the  control  of  the  will  ;  but 
the  will  itself  is  inactive,  because  apparently  it 
lacks  its  usual  mental  stimulus  and  direction. 
The  powers  which  have  been  lost,  therefore,  by 
destruction  of  the  cerebral  hemispheres,  are  alto- 
gether of  a  mental  or  intellectual  character ;  that 
is,  the  power  of  comparing  with  each  other  differ- 
ent ideas,  and  of  perceiving  the  proper  relation 
between  them."  ^ 

Referring  to  the  manifestations  of  intellectual 
power  and  voluntary  effort  in  decapitated  animals, 
Wundt,  whose  exhaustive  researches  and  judi- 
cial tone  entitle  his  views  to  great  respect,  uses 
the  following  language :  "  In  this  respect,  animals 
which  retain  the  tubercula  quadrigemina  and 
optic  thalami  uninjured,  undoubtedly  behave  pre- 
cisely as  if  decapitated.  It  is  true,  that  as  a  rule 
they  remain  sitting  or  standing  upright ;  but  the 
muscular  tension,  which  enables  them  to  main- 
tain such  an  attitude,  is  evidently  the  direct  re- 
flex result  of  a  persistent  and  uninterrupted  im- 
pression made  upon  the  skin.     Moreover,  there 

1  Dalton,  Physiolog!/,^l>.  421,  422. 


VISIONS.  95 

is  no  liint  of  any  movement,  not  referable  di- 
rectly to  external  irritation.  A  pigeon  whose 
cerebral  lobes  have  been  removed,  and  a  frog 
whose  hemispheres  have  been  separated  from  the 
optic  tubercles,  will  remain  for  days  continuously 
motionless  on  the  same  spot.  But  if,  however, 
only  a  small  portion  of  the  cerebral  lobee  is  left 
iminjured,  all  spontaneous  movement  is  not  ex- 
tinguished ;  and  in  such  a  case  spontaneous  move- 
ment may  be  almost  completely  reestablished  by 
means  of  the  extensive  transference  of  function, 
of  which  the  different  parts  of  the  cortex  are  ca- 
pable. There  have  never  been  observed  in  com- 
plete absence  of  the  superior  portion  of  the  brain, 
and  of  the  cortex  covering  it,  any  vital  manifes- 
tations which  could  be  clearly  interpreted  as 
spontaneous,  and  not  as  movements  directly  de- 
pendent on  external  irritation.  Hence,  we  may 
unhesitatingly  affirm  that  in  such  animals,  the 
reproduction  of  perceptions,  which  previously  ex- 
isted, is  impossible  ;  for  such  reproduction  must 
necessarily  lead,  now  and  then,  to  corresponding 
movements.  At  the  same  time  the  conscious  as- 
sociation of  ideas  by  which  an  existing  impression 
is  referred  back  to  antecedent  perceptions,  is 
altogether  excluded.  Yet  here,  as  in  the  case  of 
the  spinal  cord,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  a  certain 
low  grade  of  consciousness  may  be  established, 
which  will  permit  the  preservation  of  impressions 
for  a  very  short  time.  Only  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  such  a  consciousness  contributes  noth- 


96  VISIONS. 

ing  to  the  explanation  of  movements.  These 
always  carry  with  themselves  the  stamp  of  true 
reflex  action,  produced  directly  by  external  irrita- 
tion. Like  all  reflex  action,  they  depend  upon  a 
simple  mechanical  series  of  antecedents,  which, 
owing  to  the  extraordinary  perfection  of  constant 
automatic  supervision,  secure  an  appropriate  adap- 
tation of  movement  to  impression."  ^ 

Ferrier's  experiments  on  frogs  have  already  been 
cited,  which  led  him  to  the  conclusion  that  so  far 
as  experiments  on  these  animals  are  of  value  in 
such  an  inquiry,  intellection,  memory,  and  volition 
are  functions  of  the  hemispheres,  and  not  of  the 
tubercula  quadrigemina.  This  conclusion  he  has 
strengthened  by  a  large  number  of  delicate  and 
ingenious  experiments  on  other  animals,  especially 
on  monkeys,  and  by  his  investigations  has  con- 
firmed the  views  of  Fourni^,  Dalton,  and  Wundt, 
which  have  just  been  presented.  He  says  :  "  With 
the  exception  of  the  greater  degree  of  muscular 
paralysis  and  the  diminished  power  of  accommo- 
dation of  movements  in  accordance  with  sensory 
impressions,  in  general,  and  with  visual  impres- 
sions in  particular,  the  phenomena  manifested  by 
rodents  deprived  of  their  cerebral  hemispheres, 
diifer  little  from  those  already  described  in  frogs, 
fishes,  and  birds.  The  power  of  maintaining  the 
equilibrium  is  retained,  coordinated  locomotive 
actions  and  emotional  manifestations  are  capable 
of  being  excited  by  impressions  on  sensory  nerves, 
1  Wundt,  Physiologischen  Psychologic,  p.  829,  etc. 


VISIONS.  97 

essentially,  if  not  altogether  to  the  same  extent  in 
all."  1 

It  is  a  difficult  matter  to  reason  correctly  from 
experiments  on  the  comparatively  simple  mechan- 
ism of  the  lower  animals  to  the  functions  of  the 
higher  ones ;  and  the  difficulty  is  increased  when 
we  ascend  still  higher,  and  endeavor  to  unravel 
the  intricacies  of  the  nervous  system  of  man  by 
an  appeal  to  that  of  animals.  Still,  if  due  cau- 
tion be  employed,  this  method  of  inquiry  is  a  legit- 
imate one,  and  yields  important  results.  Upon 
this  point  the  observer  just  quoted,  remarks  : 
"  When  we  pass  from  the  consideration  of  the 
functions  which  the  lower  centres  in  frogs,  fishes, 
and  birds  are  capable  of  performing,  independ- 
ently of  the  cerebral  hemispheres,  to  the  effects  of 
removal  of  the  hemispheres  in  mammals,  we  have 
to  deal  with  phenomena  of  a  more  varied  charac- 
ter. We  have  seen  that  frogs,  fishes,  and  birds, 
deprived  of  their  cerebral  hemispheres,  continue 
to  perform  actions  in  many  respects  differing  little, 
if  at  all,  from  those  manifested  by  the  same  an- 
imals under  absolutely  normal  conditions.  But 
the  results  in  the  case  of  mammals,  are  far  from 
exhibiting  the  same  degree  of  uniformity.  Dif- 
ferences of  a  marked  character  exist,  according  tc 
the  age  of  the  animals  experimented  c"j,  and  the 
order  to  which  they  belong.  If  we  were  to  draw 
conclusions  from  experiments  on  one  order  of  ani- 
mals, and  extend  them,  without  due  qualification, 
1  Ferrier,  Functions,  etc.,  p.  39. 
7 


98  VISIONS. 

to  animals  in  general,  and  particularly  to  man,  we 
should  be  in  danger  of  falling  into  serious  errors. 
The  neglect  of  such  considerations  has  been  a 
fruitful  source  of  discrepancies  and  contradictions 
between  individual  physiologists,  and  between  the 
facts  of  experimental  physiology  and  those  fur- 
nished by  clinical  and  pathological  research."  ^ 

This  difficulty  would  be  diminished  if  it  were 
possible  to  subject  the  cerebro-spinal  system  of 
man,  like  that  of  animals,  to  experimental  investi- 
gation ;  but  this  cannot  be  done.  Occasionally, 
however,  disease  produces  in  the  nerve  centres  a 
local  lesion,  which  fulfils  all  the  conditions  of  an 
experiment,  and  from  which,  of  course,  correspond- 
ing conclusions  can  be  drawn.  Whenever  this  has 
occurred  under  the  eye  of  a  competent  observer, 
it  has  been  found  to  confirm  the  results  of  experi- 
ments on  animals.  Charcot  reports  the  case  of  a 
female,  seventy-six  years  old,  who  died  of  a  pneu- 
monia of  only  two  days'  duration,  in  whom,  at 
the  post-mortem  examination,  the  left  cerebral 
hemisphere  proved  to  be  healthy,  while  the  right 
contained  a  patch  of  softening  which  had  de- 
stroyed the  inferior,  parietal  lobule  of  the  pli 
courhe  (angular  gyrus),  the  posterior  half  of  the 
island  of  Reil,  and  the  two  first  temporal  convolu- 
tions. Before  her  pneumonia,  this  patient  "  got 
up  every  day  and  walked  without  diflBculty.  She 
even  walked  from  her  dormitory  to  the  infirmary. 
While  in  the  ward  it  was  ascertained  that  the 

I  Ferrier,  op.  cit.,  p.  37. 


VISIONS.  99 

muscular  strength  of  her  hands  was  equal.  She 
did  not  squint,  nor  exhibit  any  notable  disturb- 
ance of  vision."  ^  The  same  observer  quotes  from 
M.  Baraduc  the  case  of  a  man  in  whom  the  two 
frontal  lobes  were  altered  to  a  large  extent  by  a 
lesion  which  occupied  on  each  side  the  first, 
second,  and  third  frontal  convolutions.  "  The 
patient,  whose  brain  presented  these  alterations, 
had  been  for  six  years  in  the  Hospice  des  Me- 
nages.  He  exhibited,  no  sort  of  will  or  sponta- 
neity. He  walked  every  day  in  a  hap-hazard 
manner,  without  any  apparent  motive,  and  ran 
against  whatever  objects  were  in  his  way.  He 
died  of  bronchitis,  and  up  to  his  last  moments 
preserved  the  muscular  force  and  sensibility  of 
the  two  halves  of  his  body."  ^  The  condition  of 
this  person,  in  whom  the  hemispheres  had  been 
so  lai'gely  destroyed,  resembled  in  a  remarkable 
degree  that  previously  described  of  frogs,  pigeons, 
and  monkeys,  deprived  of  their  hemispheres.  Lo- 
comotion, sight,  muscular  powers,  and  coordina- 
tion were  preserved,  but  spontaneous  movement, 
memory,  and  intellectual  activity  were  absent. 
He  saw  the  form  of  objects,  but  did  not  recognize 
or  appreciate  their  relations  to  himself  or  to  other 
objects.  The  process  of  vision  was  arrested  be- 
fore it  was  completed  in  the  hemispheres.  These 
two  cases  confirm,  so  far  as  they  go,  the  trust- 

1  Revue  Mensuelle  de  Mededne  et  de  Chirurgie,  January,  1877, 
p.  10.    Art.  by  Charcot  et  Pitres. 

2  Revue  Mensuelle,  ut  supra,  p.  14. 


100  VISIONS. 

worthiness  of  the  method  of  studying  the  nervous 
system  of  man  by  that  of  animals,  and  conse- 
quently of  the  deductions,  drawn  in  this  essay,  as 
to  the  visual  functions  of  the  tubercula  quadri- 
gemina  and  hemispheres  in  man,  from  experi- 
mental researches  on  animals. 

It  appears  from  the  foregoing  considerations, 
that  intellection,  memory,  and  volition  must  be 
eliminated  from  that  part  of  the  process  of  vision 
which  resides  in  the  optic  tubercles,  and  which 
constitutes  their  chief  function.  It  is  not  clear, 
however,  that  emotion  can  be  so  distinctly  sepa- 
rated from  them.  Emotion  is  largely,  if  not  exclu- 
sively instinctive,  and  the  central  mechanism  of 
instincts  is  in  the  basal  ganglia.  We  had  occasion 
to  observe,  when  describing  the  coordinating  func- 
tion of  the  tubercles  and  optic  thalami  (p.  73), 
that  there  were  strong  presumptions  in  favor  of 
the  hypothesis  of  the  coordination  of  visual  im- 
pressions with  emotional,  as  well  as  with  muscular 
action,  in  the  tubercular  region.  The  following 
experiment  of  Vulpian,  quoted  by  Ferrier,  illus- 
trates and  strengthens  this  hypothesis.  Physiolo- 
gists say  that  the  rat  is  exceptionally  emotional ; 
that  it  is  a  peculiarly  sensitive,  if  not  sentimental 
creature,  and  therefore  admirably  adapted  to  ex- 
periments intended  to  bring  oat  emotional  expres- 
sion. Vulpian  placed  one  before  his  class  in  his 
lectures,  and  calling  attention  to  its  emotional 
characteristics,  remarked  :  "It  is  very  timid,  very 
impressionable ;  it  bounds  away  at  the  slightest 


VISIONS.  101 

touch  ;  the  slightest  sound  causes  it  to  start.  A 
whistle,  or  a  sharp  hiss,  like  the  angiy  spit  of 
a  cat,  excites  in  it  vivid  emotions.  Before  you  is 
a  rat,  from  which  I  have  removed  the  cerebral 
hemispheres.  You  see  it  remains  perfectly  quiet. 
I  now  whistle  with  the  lips,  and  you  see  the  ani- 
mal has  made  a  sudden  start.  Each  time  I  repeat 
the  same  sound  you  behold  the  same  effect.  Those 
of  you  who  have  studied  the  expression  of  emo- 
tion in  the  rat  will  recognize  the  complete  iden- 
tity of  these  with  the  ordinary  emotional  manifes- 
tations of  this  animal."  ^  In  this  instance,  an 
auditory  impression,  made  upon  the  basal  ganglia 
and  prevented,  by  ablation  of  the  hemispheres, 
from  going  higher,  excited  the  emotion  of  fear. 

These  experiments  and  clinical  and  pathologi- 
cal observations  lead  inevitably  to  the  conclusion, 
that  the  kind  of  visual  perception,  which  occurs 
in  the  tubercula  quadrigemina,  is  of  a  purely 
mechanical  or  automatic  character.  The  ideas, 
thoughts,  memories,  and  volitions,  which  visual 
impressions  produce  or  awaken,  form  no  part  of 
the  perceptive  function  of  the  tubercles.  As  soon 
as  a  visual  telegram  is  received  by  them  from 
the  eye,  the  message  is  distributed  to  the  vari- 
ous motor,  visual,  and  emotional  centres  with  which 
the  tubercles  are  in  communication,  but  the  mes- 
sage is  forwarded  without  being  understood.  Just 
as  we  have  seen  in  the  simplest  form  of  ganglionic 
action  that  a  ganglion,  as  soon  as  it  has  received 

1  Ferrier,  Functions,  etc.,  p.  69. 


102  VISIONS. 

through  a  sensory  nerve  notice  of  a  sensation, 
sends  out  a  motor  stimulus,  without  any  more 
comprehension  or  perception  of  what  it  is  doing 
than  an  ieolian  harp  has  of  the  process  or  power 
by  which  its  strings  send  out  music  in  response  to 
the  touch  of  the  wind,  so  the  optic  tubercles  re- 
ceive a  visual  impression,  and  send  out  in  various 
directions  an  appropriate  response,  without  any 
intelligent  perception  of  what  has  touched  them, 
or  to  what  issues  their  action  tends.  Conscious- 
ness recognizes  the  fact,  whenever  the  tubercles 
receive  and  send  forward  a  visual  impression,  by 
means  of  a  telegram,  that  such  an  occurrence  has 
taken  place  in  that  region,  but  it  looks  to  the  hem- 
ispheres for  information  as  to  the  nature  of  the 
impression.  If  there  is  any  consciousness  in  the 
tubercles,  it  is  of  that  low  grade  to  which  Wundt 
refers  as  existing  in  all  automatic  centres,  and  as 
disconnected  from  memory  and  spontaneity. 

The  foregoing  study  of  the  functions  of  the 
tubercula  quadrigemina  has  cleared  away  a  good 
deal  of  the  difficulty  and  obscurity  which  have 
hitherto  enveloped  them ;  and  it  indicates,  perhaps 
it  may  be  said  that  it  demonstrates,  the  following 
conclusions  :  — 

1.  The  tubercula  quadrigemina  are  a  visual 
centre,  charged  with  the  office  of  receiving  visual 
impressions  from  the  eye,  and  of  forwarding  them 
when  received  to  certain  motor  centres  and  to  the 
hemispheres. 

2.  The  visual  impressions  received  by  the  tu- 


VISIONS.  103 

bercula  quadrigemina  are  not  physically  the  same 
as  those  made  upou  the  retina  of  the  eye,  but  are 
the  result  of  a  stimulus,  which,  propagated  along 
the  optic  nerve,  produces  a  peculiar  molecular  ac- 
tion in  the  tubercles. 

3.  Every  object,  color,  and  grouping  of  objects, 
capable  of  affecting  the  eye,  produces  in  the  tu- 
bercula  quadrigemina  a  definite  sort  of  chemical, 
mechanical,  or  thermal  change,  which  is  the  hiero- 
glyphic or  cipher  of  that  object,  color,  or  grouping, 
and  is  the  representative  of  no  other  object,  color, 
or  grouping. 

4.  The  tubercula  quadrigemina  coordinate  sight 
with  irido-ocular  movements,  and,  aided  b}'^  the 
optic  thalami,  with  all  muscular  movements, 
whether  of  locomotion  or  otherwise,  for  the  per- 
fect and  harmonious  performance  of  which  sight 
is  necessary. 

5.  If  the  tubercula  quadrigemina  are  separated 
from  the  hemispheres  by  the  destruction  of  the 
latter,  or  by  interrupting  the  communication  be- 
tween these  two  regions,  the  tubercles  are  still 
capable  of  performing  their  functions  independ- 
ently ;  and,  conversely,  if  they  are  destroyed,  the 
hemispheres  remaining  uninjured,  blindness,  loss 
of  irido-ocular  coordination,  and  imperfect  coordi- 
nation of  the  general  muscular  system  result. 

6.  Simple  perception  of  light  and  of  visible 
objects  is  a  function  of  the  tubercula  quadrigem- 
ina, but  it  is  perception,  without  memory,  intellec- 
tion, or  volition  ;  \Yithout  any  recognition  of  the 
character  or  relations  of  tlie  objects  seen. 


104  VISIONS. 

7.  The  tubercula  quad  ri  gem  ina  are  essential  to 
the  process  of  vision,  but  are  not  centres  of  con- 
scious vision. 

VISUAL    CENTRE     OP    THE    HEMISPHEEES.  —  AN- 
GULAR  GYRUS.  —  PLI   COURBE. 

The  third  station  on  the  way  from  the  eye  to 
the  frontal  lobes  of  the  brain,  from  the  objective 
world  of  matter  to  the  subjective  world  of  ideas, 
from  the  not  me  to  the  me,  is  the  angular  gyrus, 
or  centre  of  vision  in  the  hemispheres.  Here  see- 
ing really  takes  place.  Here,  deep  in  the  recesses 
of  the  brain,  is  the  true  world  of  vision  and  of 
visions,  —  the  sphere  where  is  spread  before  the 
mind  all  the  wonder  which  light  reveals,  and 
where  pseudopia  plays  its  strangest  freaks.  The 
innumerable  visual  impressions,  which,  made  upon 
the  eye,  are  afterwards  appropriately  classified 
and  variously  coordinated  by  the  tubercula  quad- 
rigemina,  are  sent  up  to  this  centre,  here  to  be 
still  further  elaborated  ;  brought  into  relation  with 
the  highest  mental  powers  ;  made  to  subserve  the 
processes  of  ideation ;  pressed  into  the  cells  of 
memory  ;  and  fitted  to  excite  the  will.  It  is  with 
the  grouping  of  cells  in  the  angular  gyrus  that  we 
see,  and  not  with  our  eyes. 

Until  recently  there  has  been  a  profound  disa- 
greement upon  the  question  of  the  localization  of 
motor  and  other  functions  in  the  cerebral  lobes, 
between  the  results  of  experimental  physiology 
and  the  facts  of  clinical  observation.     The  former 


VISIONS.  105 

have  affirmed  that  the  cortical  substance  of  the 
brain  was  an  inexcitable  unit,  which  possessed 
and  exhibited  the  same  properties  in  all  its  parts ; 
the  latter  produced  a  series  of  cases  of  lesions, 
limited  to  definite  localities  in  the  cortical  sub- 
stance, which  gave  rise  to  definite  and  peculiar 
functional  derangements.  As  a  natural  conse- 
quence of  disagreement  upon  such  an  essential 
point,  two  distinct  theories  were  put  forth  and 
defended  with  regard  to  it.  One  maintained 
the  inexcitability  and  solidarity  of  the  cerebral 
lobes,  and  declared  that  "  the  intellectual  and 
perceptive  faculties  reside  in  the  cerebral  lobes ; 
coordination  of  movements  of  locomotion  in  the 
cerebellum ;  and  direct  excitation  of  muscular  con- 
traction in  the  spinal  cord  and  its  nerves 

The  organ  by  which  an  animal  perceives  and 
wills  neither  coordinates  nor  excites  ;  the  organ 
which  coordinates  does  not  excite  ;  and  recipro- 
cally, the  organ  which  excites  does  not  coordi- 
nate."^ The  other  theory,  first  definitely  pi-o- 
pounded  by  Gall,  and  afterwards  elaborated  by 
Spurzheim,  acquired  the  name  of  phrenology,  and 
made  of  the  brain  a  sort  of  delicate  mosaic  work, 
divided  into  as  many  separate  organs  as  there  are 
cerebral  functions.  The  facts  of  clinical  experi- 
ence and  numerous  physiological  observations  were 
opposed  to  each  of  these  extremes.     There  were 

1  Flourens,  Recherches  Exp^rimentales  sur  Ics  Proprie'fe's  et  les 
Fonctions  du  Systeme  Nerveux  dans  les  Aniinaux  VerMbr^s,  2*  ed., 
Paris,  1842,  preface,  p.  xiii. 


106  VISIONS. 

sound  and  philosophical  students  of  the  nervous 
system,  who  suspected  that  the  truth  lay  between 
the  two,  where  it  would  one  day  be  discovered. 
One  of  the  soundest  of  them,  Andral,  remarked 
years  ago  :  "  In  face  of  so  many  facts,  which,  in 
alterations  of  the  brain,  continually  point  to  its 
most  diverse  parts  for  an  explanation  of  the  dis- 
turbance of  a  single  function,  shall  we  deny  that 
certain  portions  of  the  encephalon  are  specially 
devoted  to  the  performance  of  certain  acts  ?  We 
have  no  right  to  do  so  ;  for  it  is  probable,  that 
certain  points  of  the  brain  have  such  a  mutual 
connection,  that  a  lesion  of  one  reacts  in  a  special 
manner  upon  another ;  and  it  may  be  that  it  is 
this  secondary  alteration,  inappreciable  by  the 
scalpel,  which  produces  some  special  functional 
disorder."  ^ 

Within  the  last  few  years  the  labors  of  Fritsch 
and  Hitzig  in  Germany,  of  Hughlings  Jackson 
and  Ferrier  in  England,  of  Carville  and  Duret 
and  Charcot  in  France,  have  accomplished  a  great 
deal  towards  reconciling  the  result  of  experiment 
with  the  facts  of  pathology,  and  have  shown  that 
the  brain  is  neither  the  inexcitable  unit  of  Flou- 
rens,  nor  the  mosaic  work  of  Gall.  They  have 
shown  that  there  are  certain  regions  in  the  human 
brain,  which  contain  centres  of  various  motor  and 
sensory  activities  ;  and  other  regions,  which,  even 
if  they  are  charged  with  diverse  functions,  are 
so  intimately  connected  with  each  other  that  they 
1  Andral,  Clinique  Medicate,  tome  v.,  p.  195. 


VISIONS.  107 

«tct  harmoniously  as  a  unit.^  The  centre  of  vision 
in  the  hemispheres,  christened  by  the  anatomists 
the  anguhir  gyrus,  and  called  by  the  French,  on 
account  of  its  shape,  the  pU  courhe,  is  one  of  these 
recently  defined  regions  which  is  of  great  impor- 
tance in  our  present  inquiry,  and  to  which  we 
must  now  turn  our  attention. 

The  evidence  which  has  been  adduced  proves 
conclusively  that  the  process  of  vision,  which 
commences  in  the  eye  and  is  afterwards  carried  on 
by  the  tubercula  quadrigemina,  is  not  completed 
by  these  ganglia,  but  has  some  other  organ  or 
region  for  its  full  and  final  development.  This 
has  long  been  suspected,  or  rather  believed,  by 
physiologists,  but  it  was  not  known  till  recently 
whether  a  visual  impression,  after  leaving  the 
optic  tubercles,  spreads  itself  for  the  inspection 
and  use  of  the  mind  over  the  whole  cortical  sub- 
stance of  a  hemisphere,  or  is  confined  to  a  def- 
inite centre  in  that  substance,  from  which  it  radi- 
ates in  every  direction.  The  discovery  by  experi- 
mental investigation  that  cerebral  vision  is  cen- 
tred in  the  angular  gyrus  has  put  that  question 
at  rest. 

1  The  speculations  of  the  ancients  upon  the  functions  of  the 
brain  were  sometimes  singularly  near  the  truth,  of  which  the 
demonstration  was  reserved  for  later  and  in  some  instances  for 
recent  times.  Tluis  Hippocrates  taught  that,  "  It  is  by  the  braiu 
we  think,  understand,  see  and  hear,  know  ugliness  and  beauty, 
evil  and  good,  pleasure  and  pain ;  ....  it  is  by  the  braiu  that 
insanity  and  delirium,  fear  and  terror,  groundless  error  and  mo- 
*:iveless  anxiety  beset  us."  —  (Euvres  Completes  d' Hippocrates, 
\raduction  par  E.  Littre,  tome  vi.,  p.  387.     Paris. 


108  VISIONS. 

The  angular  gyrus,  according  to  Ferrier,  is  a 
section  of  the  parietal  lobe  of  the  brain,  situated 
below  the  intro-parietal  sulcus,  and  a  little  pos- 
terior to  the  horizontal  branch  of  the  fissure  of 
Sylvius.  It  bends  in  a  fold  or  arch,  and  hence  its 
French  appellation,  pU  courhe.,  over  and  around 
the  temporo-sphenoidal  convolution  in  which  is 
the  auditory  centre.  In  close  proximity  to  it  are 
the  centres  of  smell  and  taste,  as  well  as  the  tac- 
tile centre.  So  that  this  region  contains  as  near 
anatomical  neighbors,  the  centres,  or  centric  ter- 
minal stations  of  the  five  senses  of  sight,  hearing, 
smell,  taste,  and  touch.  It  is  a  region,  in  which 
these  senses  bring  the  whole  external  world  into 
immediate  contact  with  the  mind  ;  a  region,  where 
matter  assumes  its  most  immaterial,  and  mind  its 
most  material  condition ;  and  where,  if  anywhere, 
mind  and  matter  touch  each  other,  and  react  on 
each  other. 

The  angular  gyrus  is  shown  to  be  the  visual 
centre  of  the  hemispheres  by  two  series  of  ex- 
perimental investigations  which  supplement  each 
other.  One  series  presents  the  results  following 
its  destruction,  and  the  other  those  following  its 
stimulation  in  living  animals.  The  effect  of  stim- 
ulating it  by  an  electric  current  is  to  produce  phe- 
nomena which  "  seem  to  be  merely  reflex  move- 
ments, consequent  on  the  excitation  of  subjective 
visual  sensation."  ^  That  is,  stimulation  of  the 
angular  gyrus  in  a  monkey,  dog,  cat,  or  other 
1  Ferrier,  op.  cit.,  p.  164,  Am.  ed. 


VISIONS.  109 

aniiual,  produces  subjective  pseudopia,  which  is 
accompanied  with  nipvements  of  the  eyeball,  con- 
traction of  the  pupil,  closure  of  the  eyelids,  and 
other  efforts,  indicating  a  desire  on  the  part  of  the 
subject  of  the  experiment  to  escape  from  some 
disagreeable  visual  impression.  This  fact  of  the 
artificial  production  of  subjective  pseudopia  is 
one  of  great  importance  in  our  present  inquiry. 
It  will  be  referred  to  again  by  and  by. 

Destruction  of  the  angular  gyrus  (on  one 
side)  temporarily  annihilates  the  visual  function. 
"  The  loss  of  vision  is  complete,  but  is  not  perma- 
nent if  the  angular  gyrus  of  the  opposite  hemis- 
phere remains  intact ;  compensation  rapidly  tak- 
ing place,  so  that  vision  is  again  possible  with 
either  eye  as  before.  On  destruction  of  the  angu- 
lar gyrus  in  both  hemispheres,  however,  the  loss 
of  vision  is  complete  and  permanent,  so  long,  at 
least,  as  it  is  possible  to  maintain  the  animal  un- 
der observation.  When  the  lesion  is  accurately 
circumscribed  in  the  angular  gyrus,  the  loss  of 
vision  is  the  only  effect  observable,  all  the  other 
senses  and  the  powers  of  voluntary  motion  remain- 
ing unaffected.! 

There  is  an  apparent  discrepancy  between  this 
statement,  that  destruction  of  the  angular  gyrus 
in  each  hemisphere  completely  destroys  vision 
and  the  statement  previously  made  that  sight 
may  exist  in  the  tubercula  quadrigemina,  after 
destruction  of  the  hemispheres.  Both  of  these 
1  Ferrier,  op.  cit.,  p.  164. 


110  VISIONS. 

statements  are  correct.  The  experiments  which 
have  been  detailed  show  thiit,  in  living  animals, 
ablation  of  the  hemispheres,  which  of  course  in- 
cludes ablation  of  the  angular  gyri,  leaving  the 
lower  visual  centres  intact,  is  followed  by  loss  of 
vision  ;  and,  moreover,  that  destruction  of  the  tu- 
bercula  quadrigemina,  leaving  the  hemispheres  in- 
tact, is  in  like  manner  followed  by  loss  of  vision. 
They  also  show  that  visual  perception  persists 
after  ablation  of  the  hemispheres,  the  tubercles 
remaining ;  and  that  it  persists  after  destruction 
of  the  tubei'cles,  the  hemispheres  remaining.  Such 
are  the  results  of  experimental  investigation,  and 
they  are  not  irreconcilable  with  each  other.  The 
discrepancy  is  only  apparent.  It  arises,  to  a  great 
extent,  from  want  of  precision  in  the  use  of  lan- 
guage ;  or,  more  exactly,  from  not  attaching  pre- 
cise ideas  to  the  language  we  employ. 

The  contradiction  will  disappear,  and  the  re- 
sults harmonize  with  each  other,  if  we  bear  in 
mind  the  distinction  which  has  been  established 
between  the  various  kinds  of  visual  perception. 
We  have  endeavored  to  emphasize  the  fact,  to  put 
it  in  as  clear  a  light  as  possible,  that  the  process 
of  vision  consists  of  several  stages  ;  and  that  each 
stage  has  its  own  sort  of  seeing,  its  own  sort  of 
visual  perception,  of  which  the  others  do  not  par- 
take. The  seeing  of  the  retina  of  the  eye  consists 
■of  impressions,  unrecognized  by  consciousness, 
made  upon  its  cells  and  tubes  by  waves  of  light. 
The  seeing  of  the  tubercula  quadrigemina  consists 


VISIONS.  Ill 

in  receiving  and  appropriately  distributing  a  vis- 
ual message,  and  of  doing  so  within  the  domain  of 
consciousness,  but  without  the  domain  of  memory, 
intellect,  and  volition.  The  seeing  of  the  angular 
gyrus  consists  in  receiving,  apprehending,  retain- 
ing, and  appi'opriately  distributing  a  visual  mes- 
sage, forwarded  by  the  tubercula  quadrigemina, 
and  of  doing  this  within  the  domains  of  con- 
sciousness, memory,  intellect,  emotion,  and  voli- 
tion. Sight  in  the  eye  is  automatic  and  uncon- 
scious. Sight  in  the  tubercula  quadrigemina  is 
automatic,  sensori-motor,  and  attended  with  a  low 
grade  of  consciousness.  Sight  in  the  angular 
gyrus  is  intelligent,  ideo-motor,  partially  auto- 
matic, and  attended  with  the  liighest  grade  of 
consciousness. 

If  a  complete  section  of  the  visual  apparatus  is 
taken  out,  or  a  visual  centre  destroyed,  all  vision 
between  the  point  of  destruction  and  the  frontal 
lobes  is  annihilated.  No  visual  impression  can 
penetrate  beyond  the  point  of  destruction  ;  a  re- 
sult which  theoretically  would  be  expected  and 
which  experiment  has  demonstrated.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  a  visual  centre  remains  between  the 
point  of  destruction  and  the  periphery,  such  a 
centre,  to  which  of  course  a  visual  impression  can 
penetrate,  retains,  for  a  time  at  least,  its  own  spe- 
cial visual  powers  ;  it  retains  its  own  sort  of  sight. 
This  result,  again,  which  theoretically  would  be 
anticipated,  has  been  experimentally  confirmed. 
If  the  eyes  are  taken  out,  no  visual  impression  or 


ll2  VISIONS. 

stimulus  can  penetrate  to  the  tnbercula  quadrige- 
mina,  angular  gyrus,  or  frontal  lobes,  and  arouse 
them  to  action.  If  the  angular  gyrus  is  destroyed, 
the  stimulus  of  light  can  still  ascend  through  the 
eye  to  the  optic  tubercles,  and  excite  the  functions 
of  each  of  these  organs.  This  can  be  done  till 
they  become  atrophied  from  want  of  use,  and 
then,  of  course,  all  vision  is  impossible.  When 
we  remember  that  no  memory,  intellection,  or  vo- 
lition can  be  excited  by  a  visual  impression  till  it 
reaches  the  angular  gyrus,  we  can  easily  under- 
stand why  destruction  of  this  centre,  like  ablation 
of  the  two  hemispheres,  should  apparently  produce 
total  loss  of  every  sort  of  visual  perception.  A 
function  which  is  performed  without  consciousness 
or  memory  is  practically  abolished.  An  animal, 
which  has  been  deprived  of  the  angular  gyrus  and 
allowed  to  retain  its  optic  tubercles,  may  see  the 
same  object  a  thousand  times,  in  as  many  succes- 
sive seconds,  minutes,  or  hours,  but,  unfurnished 
with  memory,  it  will  fail  to  recognize  th(^,  object, 
or  comprehend  its  relations.  Such  an  animal  will 
act  as  if  it  were  blind,  and  practically  it  is  blind. 
It  will  look  at  food  of  which  it  is  fond,  and  of 
which  it  is  in  need,  without  making  any  effort  to 
get  hold  of  the  food.  Its  eye  will  follow  a  lighted 
lamp,  but  it  will  not  seek  to  avoid  the  flame,  un- 
less it  feels  the  heat.  Charcot's  patient,  in  whom 
disease  had  destroyed  the  angular  gyrus,  wandered 
about  in  a  hap-hazard  manner ;  seeing,  yet  acting 
like  a  blind  person. 


VISIONS.  113 

These  considerations  are  sufficient  to  explain 
the  apparent  contradiction  which  has  been  men- 
tioned, and  to  show  that  the  results  of  experi- 
mental investigation  harmonize  with,  and  support 
each  other.  The  explanation  may  be  briefly  stated 
thus :  Each  visual  centre  has  its  own  sort  of  visual 
perception.  The  destruction  of  a  lower  centre 
prevents  a  visual  impression  from  ascending  to  a 
higher  centre,  and  therefore  produces  blindness. 
The  destruction  of  a  higher  centre  leaves  to  each 
lower  centre  a  low  gi'ade  of  visual  perception, 
which,  being  unaccompanied  with  memory,  is  also 
practical  blindness. 

Fournie  insists  upon  the  distinction  (which  we 
have  pointed  out)  between  the  various  kinds  of 
perception.  It  will  illustrate  our  subject  and  re- 
inforce our  argument  to  compare  his  statement 
with  the  preceding. 

"  In  order,"  he  says,  "  to  comprehend  the  signification 
of  these  experiments,  we  must  not  lose  sight  of  the  es- 
sential distinction,  which  we  have  established,  between 
a  simple  perception,  produced  in  the  optic  thalami  and 
a  clear  and  definite  perception  (conception  ?)  produced 
elsewhere.  The  latter  is  the  result  of  an  acquired  ex- 
perience, of  an  anterior  comparison  of  two  perceptions ; 
it  includes  in  a  word,  somewhat  more  than  a  simple 
perception,  and  has  also  a  different  character.  A  simple 
perception  is  produced  by  an  exciting  object,  which  has 
just  affected  a  sensitive  nerve  (this  is  all  that  objective 
impressions  can  produce).  A  detailed  perception  («'.  e., 
conception)  is  the  product  of  a  cerebral  element,  which 


114  VISIONS. 

has  preserved  the  mark  or  trace  of  an  intellectual  effort, 
by  which  two  simple  perceptions  were  previously  com- 
pared. This  element  is  represented  by  millions  of  cells, 
which  are  disseminated  throughout  the  cortical  periph- 
ery of  the  brain,  where  they  constitute  the  layer  of 
gray  matter.  These  cells,  contrary  to  the  oj^inion  of 
some  physiologists,  and  of  M.  Luys  in  particular,  per- 
ceive nothing  of  themselves.  They  represent  a  dynamic 
movement,  which  alone  possesses  the  power  of  exciting 
in  the  optic  thalami,  the  unique  centre  of  perception, 
a  peculiar  perception,  or,  in  other  words,  an  acquired 
notion.  This  essential  distinction,  which  we  have  just 
established,  gives  us  the  key  to  memory,  and  enables  us 
to  point  out  its  mechanism  from  a  theoretical,  experi- 
mental, and  organic  stand-point.  To  recollect  one's  self 
is  to  state,  in  effect,  that  our  present  imjsression  differs 
from  a  former  one,  and  in  order  to  make  such  a  state- 
ment, the  brain  must  have  preserved  somewhere  the 
trace  of  an  anterior  impression,  to  such  an  extent,  that 
the  latter  can  reexcite  the  centre  of  perception. 

"  It  is  evident,  if  we  recall  the  position  which  we  have 
assigned  to  the  phenomena  of  perception  in  our  classifi- 
cation of  the  phenomena  of  life,  that  merely  to  feel  is  to 
live,  but  that  to  feel  and  know  is  to  cerebi'ate.  Cabanis 
was  wrong,  when  he  said,  to  live  is  to  feel.  It  is  pos- 
sible to  live  for  a  time  without  feeling ;  but  feeling  with- 
out life  is  impossible. 

"Acquired  notions,  then,  are  represented  by  the  im- 
pressionable cell  elements  which  are  distributed  through- 
out the  cortical  periphery  of  the  brain.  There  they  are 
organically  arranged  without  the  intervention  of  the 
will.  They  are  associated  with  each  other  by  the  pro- 
longations of  cells,  which  are  themselves  so  connected 


VISIONS.  115 

as  to  be  capable  of  reciprocally  exciting  each  other's 
activity,  and  of  manifesting  it,  by  exciting  the  centre  of 
perception  in  the  optic  thalami.  These  views,  deduced 
from  a  sound  interpretation  of  the  phenomena  of  life, 
and  from  pathological  observation,  throw  a  large  amount 
of  light  upon  mental  operations,  and  on  such  psychical 
affections  as  hallucination,  mania,  etc."  ^ 

The  angular  gyrus,  like  the  tabercula  quadri- 
gemina,  is  composed  of  groups  of  corpuscles,  gran- 
ules of  protoplasm,  cells,  enclosing  nuclei  and  nu- 
cleoli, interlacing  nerve  fibres,  blood-vessels,  and 
connecting  tissue.  Of  the  manner  in  which  these 
constituent  elements  behave  under  the  influence 
of  a  visual  impression  (telegram)  from  the  optic 
tubercles,  we  know  as  little  as  we  do  of  the  be- 
havior of  similar  elements  in  the  tubercula  quad- 
rigemina  or  optic  thalami  under  the  same  in- 
fluence. The  description  which  has  been  given  of 
the  possible  grouping  of  cells  and  development  of 
force  through  chemical,  mechanical,  thermal,  or 
nutritive  change  by  means  of  which  the  reception 
and  forwarding  of  visual  telegrams  occur  in  the  tu- 
bercula quadrigemina,  applies  to  the  angular  gyri, 
so  that  it  is  unnecessary  to  rehearse  the  matter 
here.  It  is  important  to  remember,  however,  that 
as  the  definite  visual  impression,  which  waves  of 
light  make  on  the  retina,  is  not  transferred  to  the 
optic  tubercles,  so  in  like  manner  the  impression 
made  on  these  organs  through  the  optic  nerve,  is 
not  transferred  to  the  angular  gyri ;  a  visual  mes- 
^  Fournid,  Recherches  Exp€rimentales,  op.  cit.,  p.  87,  etc. 


116  VISIONS. 

sage  is  received,  comprehended,  and  forwarded. 
This  is  done  by  means  of  definite  groupings  of  the 
cells,  or  peculiar  manifestations  of  the  chemical 
and  other  forces  of  each  angular  gyrus.  The  mil- 
lions of  cells  in  the  gyri  are  amply  sufficient  to 
afford  a  separate  cipher  for  every  possible  visual 
impression,  and  shade  of  impression,  which  ca*^ 
visit  the  most  sensitive  and  intelligent  eye  during 
the  longest  life. 

As  we  approach  the  higher  cerebral  centres  we 
meet  with  several  physiological  laws  or  habitudes, 
which  deserve  consideration,  and  with  which  an 
acquaintance  is  essential  to  a  just  appreciation  of 
the  delicate  and  complex  phenomena  of  the  higher 
ganglia  of  the  nervous  system,  and  especially  of 
the  mechanism  of  orthopia  and  pseudopia.  One 
of  the  most  interesting  and  important  of  these 
laws  is  that  which  enables  the  cells  of  nerve  cen- 
tres to  retain  or  register  impressions.  It  may  be 
called  the  law  or  power  of  cerebral  registration. 
In  accordance  with  it,  impressions  made  on  these 
cells  are  retained  with  a  definiteness  and  perma- 
nence, proportional  to  the  frequency  and  intensity 
of  the  impressions.  A  single,  feeble  impression 
leaves  only  a  slight  trace  on  the  cells  it  reaches, 
and  one  which  it  is  possible  may  be  sooner  or 
later  obliterated.  A  single,  strong  impression 
leaves  a  deeper  and  more  lasting  trace.  An  im- 
pression, frequently  repeated  during  a  long  period, 
leaves  a  deep  and  permanent  trace.  In  this  way 
the   cerebral   cells   are   modified   by  impressions 


VISIONS.  117 

made  upon  them,  and  the  modification  becomes  in 
some  unknown  manner  a  part  of  the  organization 
of  the  centres  affected,  and  one  which  persists,  in 
spite  of  the  continual  metamorphoses  to  which 
they  are  subjected.  As  a  cicatrix  upon  the  skin, 
following  a  burn  or  wound,  will  retain  its  place 
and  structure  as  a  part  of  the  skin,  through  all 
the  changes  of  growth  and  nutrition  from  child- 
hood to  old  age,  so  a  cerebral  cell  or  group  of  cells 
retains  the  type,  whicli  impressions  have  stamped 
into  it,  through  all  the  changes  of  cerebral  devel- 
opment and  action.  The  millions  of  visual  im- 
pressions made  on  the  cells  of  the  angular  gyri, 
by  the  objective  world,  from  childhood  to  old  age 
leave  traces  of  greater  or  less  distinctness  there. 
Some  of  these  are  slight  and  shadowy,  and  can 
only  be  reproduced  with  difficulty,  after  the  lapse 
of  any  considerable  period  of  time ;  others  are 
stamped  deeply  and  indelibly  into  the  cell  struc- 
ture, and  can  be  easily  called  into  renewed  activ- 
ity, even  after  many  years  have  passed  by. 

The  subjective  cerebral  action  resulting  from 
visual  impressions,  made  upon  the  angular  gyrus, 
or  telegraphed  to  it  by  the  tubercula  quadrigemi- 
na,  is  one  of  the  forms  of  special  sensation,  and 
involves  the  highest  grade  of  consciousness.  It  is 
in  fact  open  to  the  inspection  of  self-consciousness, 
and  furnishes  motives  and  stimulants  to  the  will. 
Such  a  result  does  not  follow  the  action  which 
light  produces  in  the  optical  apparatus  of  the  eye, 
or  of  the  optic  tubercles.     Self  may  be  conscious 


118  VISIONS. 

that  the  mechanism  of  these  organs  is  at  work, 
but   the   subjective   side    of  their   action    is   not 
reached  till  the  angular  gyri  are  put  in  motion. 
Ferrier  happily  says  :  — 

"The  optical  apparatus  without  the  angular  gyrus 
may  be  compared  to  the  camera  without  the  sensitized 
plate.  The  rays  of  light  are  focussed  as  usual,  but  pro- 
duce no  chemical  action,  and  leave  no  trace  when  the 
object  is  withdrawn,  or  the  light  from  it  shut  off.  The 
angular  gyrixs  is  like  the  sensitive  plate.  The  cells  un- 
dergo certain  molecular  modifications,  which  coincide 
with  certain  subjective  changes  constituting  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  impression,  or  special  visual  sensation. 
And  as  the  sensitive  plate  records  in  certain  chemical 
decompositions,  the  form  of  the  object  presented  to  the 
camera,  so  the  angular  gyrus  records  in  cell  modifica- 
tions the  visual  characters  of  the  object  looked  at.  We 
may  push  the  analogy  still  further.  Just  as  the  chemi- 
cal decomposition  effected  by  the  rays  of  light  may  be 
fixed  and  form  a  permanent  image  of  the  object  capable 
of  being  looked  at,  so  the  cell  modifications  which  coin- 
cided with  the  presentation  of  the  object  to  the  eye,  re- 
main permanently,  constituting  the  organic  memory  of 
the  object  itself.  When  the  same  cell  modifications  are 
again  excited  the  object  is  re-presented  or  rises  up  in 
idea.  It  is  not  meant  by  this  analogy  that  the  objects 
are  photographed  in  the  angular  gyrus,  as  objects  are 
photographed  on  the  plate,  but  mei*ely  that  permanent 
cell  modifications  are  induced,  which  are  the  physiologi- 
cal representatives  of  the  optical  characters  of  the  ob- 
ject presented  to  the  eye.  The  optical  characters  are 
purely  light  vibrations,  and  few  objects  are  known  by 


VISIONS.  11 9 

these  alone.  The  object  appeals  to  other  senses,  and 
perhaps  to  movements,  and  the  idea  of  the  object  as  a 
whole  is  the  revival  of  the  cell  modifications  in  each  of 
the  centres  concerned  in  the  act  of  cognition.  For  what 
is  true  of  the  angular  gyrus,  or  sight  centre,  is  true, 
mutatis  mutandis,  of  the  other  sensory  centres.  Each 
is  the  organic  basis  of  consciousness  of  its  own  special 
sensory  impressions,  and  each  is  the  organic  basis  of  the 
memory  of  such  imjDressions  in  the  form  of  certain  cell 
modifications,  the  re-induction  of  which  is  the  re-pre- 
sentation or  revival  in  idea  of  the  individual  sensory 
characters  of  the  object.  The  organic  cohesion  of  these 
elements  by  association  renders  it  possible  for  the  re- 
excitation  of  the  one  set  of  characters  to  recall  the 
whole."  1 

Not  only  is  the  angular  gyrus  capable  of  regis- 
tering impressions,  but  it  can  reproduce  them  un- 
der the  influence  of  an  appropriate  and  sufficient 
stimulus.  It  possesses,  in  other  words,  the  power 
of  reviving  antecedent  impressions,  in  accordance 
with  what  may  be  called  the  law  of  cell-reproduc- 
tion. From  what  has  been  said,  we  should  ex- 
pect such  a  power  to  exist  in  the  various  gangli- 
onic nerve  centres,  including  the  cerebral  visual 
centre.  Visual  impressions,  which  are  to  a  greater 
or  less  extent  pictorial  on  the  retina,  become  in 
the  tubercula  quadrigemina,  optic  thalami,  and 
angular  gyri,  cell-groups,  or  modified  cell-manifes- 
tations. Each  specific  group  or  manifestation  is 
the  cipher  or  hieroglyphic  of  a  specific  visual  ob- 
ject.    Such  being  the  mechanism  of  sight,  it  is 

1  Ferrier,  op.  cit.,  pp.  257,  258. 


120  VISIONS. 

evident  that  whatever  will  produce  in  any  of  the 
visual  centres  a  cell-grouping  or  modification, 
vrhich  is  the  representative  of  any  object,  as  a 
rose,  a  dagger,  or  a  face,  will  also  produce  the  sub- 
jective sensation  or  idea  of  the  object.  Ordinarily 
this  occurs  only  when  an  object  is  presented  ex- 
ternally to  the  eye,  and  the  rays  of  light  falling 
from  it  on  the  retina,  set  the  whole  visual  appar- 
atus in  action.  Sometimes,  however,  causes  which 
are  purely  intra-cranial  will  revive  old  cell-groups 
or  modifications,  and  the  subjective  i-esult  is  the 
seeing  of  objects  of  which  there  is  no  external 
existence. 

There  are  various  intra-cranial  conditions  which 
lead  to  this  curious  result,  some  of  which  have 
been  ascertained  and  others  now  unknown,  will 
doubtless  be  discovered  by  and  by.  Two  of  them, 
habit  and  association,  facilitate  in  a  marked  de- 
gree the  revival  of  old  impressions  and  contribute 
to  the  distinctness  of  the  result. 

All  recognize  the  force  of  habit  in  rendering 
the  performance  of  actions  easy,  which  when  first 
attempted  were  difficult.  It  enables  an  infant  to 
solve  the  hard  problem  of  walking  with  rapidity, 
so  as  to  exchange  in  early  life  an  uncertain,  slow, 
and  painful  gait  for  an  assured  and  almost  uncon- 
scious step.  By  its  aid  a  musician  will  render 
with  accuracy  and  effect  the  most  difficult  music, 
while  his  conscious  self  is  wandering  among  the 
stars,  or  watching  the  mazes  of  a  dance.  The 
brain  of  a  practised  orator  will  sometimes  act  so 


VISIONS.  121 

far  automatically  under  its  influence  as  to  pour 
forth  a  strain  of  intelligent  discourse,  while  the 
speaker's  self  is  temporarily  intent  upon  some 
occurrence  in  his  audience,  or  pursuing  ideas  aside 
from  his  speech.  The  visual  centres  do  not  escape 
from  the  influence  of  habit.  Cell-groupings  and 
cell-modifications,  which  are  frequently  formed, 
acquire  the  power  of  being  reproduced  with  con- 
stantly increasing  facility.  Groupings,  represent- 
ing the  lineaments  of  a  face  which  has  been  seen 
thousands  of  times,  will  re-form  on  the  slightest 
visual  hint  that  the  familiar  countenance  is  within 
the  field  of  vision.  Light  reflected  from  a  well- 
known  lip,  or  eye,  or  nose,  upon  the  retina,  will 
not  infrequently  set  the  whole  visual  apparatus  in 
motion,  so  as  to  produce  in  the  angular  gyrus  a 
cell-group,  which,  being  the  representative  of  an 
accustomed  face,  will  present  it  to  our  subjective 
vision.  The  more  frequently  the  cell-groups  of 
the  visual  centre  have  been  made  to  assume  a  cer- 
tain form,  the  more  easily  and  accurately  do  they 
arrange  themselves  in  that  order.  In  this  way,  a 
single  feature,  resembling  that  of  a  friend,  seen  on 
a  stranger's  face,  will  polarize  one  or  more  cells 
of  the  angular  gyrus,  and  these  being  part  of  a 
group  which  has  been  put  together  a  thousand 
times,  will  cause  the  whole  group  to  crystallize 
into  shape  and  bring  the  friend  before  our  sight. 

The  influence  of  association  over  the  cerebral 
visual  centre,  as  well  as  over  all  nerve  centres,  is 
not  less  potent  than  that  of  habit,  and  is  closely 


122  VISIONS. 

allied  to  it.  Habit  enables  a  visual  cell-group  to 
be  formed  with  constantly  increasing  facility  and 
accuracy  ;  association  enables  groups  which  have 
been  associated  with  each  other  to  call  each  other 
up,  without  any  regard  to  mutual  similarity  or 
natural  connection.  Let  A.,  B.,  and  C,  indicate 
the  cell-groups  or  cell-modifications  which  repre- 
sent respectively  a  man,  a  horse,  and  a  rock,  and 
which  have  been  frequently  and  for  a  long  time 
associated  together.  The  man  seen  alone  will 
produce  in  the  angular  gyrus  the  visual  group.  A., 
and  its  corresponding  subjective  sensation.  The 
grouping  of  A.  will  lead  to  the  more  or  less  com- 
plete grouping  of  B.  and  C. ;  or  A.  may  produce 
B.  without  C  ;  or  C.  without  B.  It  is  rare  that 
associated  visual  groups  are  completely  formed  in 
this  way ;  if  they  were  so  the  corresponding  sub- 
jective sensation  would  be  equally  complete,  and 
visions  or  pseudopia  would  be  of  frequent  occur- 
rence. They  are,  however,  often  imperfectly 
formed  and  bring  before  the  mind's  eye  imperfect 
subjective  visual  sensations,  which  may  be  still 
further  developed  by  the  ideo-motor  action  of  the 
cerebral  cells.  Such  groupings  and  visual  sensa- 
tions are  very  apt  to  occur  in  sleep,  and  occasion 
dreams  in  which  strange  sights  play  a  prominent 
part.  This  sort  of  association  is  an  illustration  of 
Bain's  "  Law  of  Contiguity,"  in  accordance  with 
which,  "  actions,  sensations,  and  states  of  feeling, 
occurring  together  or  in  close  succession,  tend  to 
grow  together  or  cohere,  in  such  a  way  that  when 


VISIONS.  123 

any  one  of  them  is  afterwards  presented  to  the 
mind  the  others  are  apt  to  be  brought  up  in 
idea." 

"  Pictures  which  memory  and  fantasy  produce,"  says 
Wundt,  "  are  formed  by  the  influence  of  direct  percep- 
tion, or  by  that  of  other  ideal  conceptions  with  which 
they  are  in  some  way  connected  by  the  laws  of  associa- 
tion. Sometimes,  indeed,  it  seems  to  us  as  if  a  definite 
picture  arose  in  our  consciousness  without  any  cause. 
But  even  in  such  cases,  the  careful  observer  will  seldom 
miss  the  link,  which  connects  ideas  with  antecedent  con- 
ditions. We  overlook  such  connections  easily,  because 
re-presentation  can  be  attached  to  any  of  the  elements 
of  perception  and  idea.  Thus  sensory  and  aesthetic 
feelings,  and  the  affections  which  act  upon  our  conscious- 
ness, and  with  which  on  account  of  their  vagueness,  as- 
sociation is  indistinctly  connected,  readily  serve  as  vehi- 
cles for  reproduction.  In  view  of  the  extraordinary 
variety  of  connections  which  are  thus  possible,  and  of 
the  great  difficulty  of  observing  in  one's  self  the  simple, 
direct,  internal  current  of  our  ideas,  we  are  compelled  to 
the  conclusion,  that  a  universal  causality  presides  over 
this  territory  also,  and  that  no  picture  of  memory  ever 
springs  up  over  the  threshold  of  consciousness,  which 
did  not  appear  there  in  accordance  with  those  laws  of 
association,  which,  in  many  cases,  have  been  distinctly 
demonstrated  to  exist.  In  short,  association  is  a  psycho- 
logical antecedent.  Hence  we  may  describe  the  essen- 
tial difference  between  the  pictures  of  perception  and 
those  of  imagination  as  consisting  in  this  :  the  former 
always  have  their  origin  in  a  physiological  irritant ;  the 
latter  in  a  psychological  irritation.    We  regard  psychical 


124  VISIONS. 

irritation  as  the  originator  of  these  ideas,  which  whether 
resulting  from  contemplation  or  self-generated,  bring  a 
picture  into  consciousness  by  means  of  association.  Now, 
although  an  ideal  picture  should  possess  the  same  ele- 
ments of  sensation  as  the  original  perception,  perhajis 
faded  and  modified  in  its  details  by  the  re-presentation 
of  others,  yet  even  here  we  must  presuppose  a  physio- 
logical irritation  of  the  central  layers,  which  is  developed 
in  consequence  of  psychical  irritation."  ^ 

It  is  apparent  from  these  considerations,  that 
the  angular  gyrus  is  the  last  centre  or  station  of 
the  apparatus,  which  visual  impressions  traverse 
on  their  way  from  the  external  world  to  the 
frontal  lobes,  where  they  are  turned  over  to  the 
machinery  of  ideation  and  volition.  In  this  cen- 
tre they  receive  their  final  elaboration,  before 
being  presented  to  the  mind  ;  here  they  are  ac- 
cvirately  registered  and  preserved  for  revival  or 
reproduction.  However  numerous,  frequent,  and 
varied  these  impressions  may  be,  it  contains  ample 
provision  for  receiving,  forwarding,  and  recording 
them  all.  It  recognizes,  pictures,  and  notes  every 
shade  of  visual  difference.  From  it  the  mind  de- 
rives all  the  information  light  can  impart  of  the 
external  world,  and  upon  the  accuracy  of  its  re- 
ports the  mind  implicitly  relies.  Whatever  re- 
port it  sends  up  the  mind  accepts  as  true.  In  the 
vast  majority  of  cases,  it  justifies  by  its  truthful- 
ness the  confidence  reposed  in  it.  Were  it  not 
so,  we  should  never  be  sure  of  anything  we  see. 

1  Wundt,  op.  cit.,  pp.  644,  645. 


VISIONS.  125 

Were  it  apt  to  act  of  itself,  without  being  stimu- 
lated by  the  eye,  we  should  be  unable  to  discrim- 
inate subjective  from  objective  seeing  —  orthopia 
from  pseudopia,  —  sights  of  external,  from  those 
of  internal  life.  But,  now  and  then,  the  angular 
gyri  do  act  independently  of  the  external  world, 
and  then  we  are  amazed  and  confounded  by  their 
doings.  Before  discussing  this  point,  however,  it 
is  important  to  examine  the  visual  relations  of  the 
frontal  lobes  of  the  brain  and  angular  gyri  to  each 
other. 

THE   FRONTAL   LOBES. 

The  cerebrum  is  the  seat  of  intelligence,  the 
home  of  ideas  and  imagination,  the  forum,  where 
reason  hears  and  decides,  and  from  whence  the 
will  utters  its  mandates  which  issue  in  action. 
It  is  not  intended  by  this  statement  to  affirm  that 
mind  and  brain  are  identical,  but  only  that  all 
mental  action,  however  complex  or  subtle,  is  man- 
ifested through  the  brain.  Neither  is  it  intended 
to  assert  that  the  cerebrum  is  the  sole  organ  of 
the  mind;  for  it  is  probable,  some  physiologists 
would  say  proved,  that  the  whole  cerebro-spinal 
system,  in  varying  degrees,  contributes  to  mental 
force  and  mental  processes,  and  aids  in  mental 
manifestations.  Nevertheless,  the  chief  seat  of  in- 
telligence is  the  cerebrum ;  and  of  the  cerebrum, 
the  frontal  lobes  for  all  purposes  of  intellection, 
are  the  most  important..  They  contain  the  most 
delicate  and  mysterious  portions   of  the   mind's 


126  VISIONS. 

machinery.  They  constitute  the  organic  basis  of 
the  higher  intellectual  faculties,  and  intellectual 
power  is  proportional  to  their  development. 

The  frontal  lobes  are  divided  by  anatomists  into 
three  sections,  called  the  superior,  middle,  and  in- 
f<jrior  frontal  convolutions.  These  are  situated 
directly  behind  and  above  the  eyes,  forming  the 
anterior  and  highest  portion  of  the  cerebrum,  a 
commanding  position,  symbolical  of  their  watch 
and  control  over  the  whole  nervous  apparatus. 
Their  constituent  elements,  like  those  of  the  tu- 
bercula  quadrigemina,  optic  thalami,  and  angular 
gyri,  are  cells,  containing  nuclei  and  nucleoli, 
granules,  interlacing  fibres,  investing  membranes, 
connective  tissue,  and  the  like.  Although  these 
elements  are  the  same  as  those  of  other  nerve 
centres,  it  is  evident  from  the  functions  they  per- 
form that  in  some  way,  perhaps  in  quality  or 
atomic  arrangement,  they  differ  from  other  gan- 
glia of  the  cerebrum.  The  difference,  however,  is 
of  a  character  which  no  scalpel,  lens,  or  analysis 
has  been  able  to  demonstrate,  or  can  appreciate. 
In  like  manner,  the  various  cell-groupings  and 
cell-modifications,  mechanical,  chemical,  thermal, 
)r  dynamic,  which,  by  inducing  the  development 
or  inhibition  of  force,  enable  motion,  thought,  and 
volition  to  be  manifested,  may  be  guessed,  but 
cannot  be  traced  or  mapped  out.  What  has  been 
said  with  regard  to  the  hypothetical  cell-group- 
ings and  cell-modifications  of  the  tubercula  quad- 
rigemina, under  the  influence  of  visual  impressions 


VISIONS.  127 

from  the  eye,  is  applicable  to  similar  groupings 
in  the  frontal  lobes,  when  such  impressions  are 
transfei-red  or  reported  to  them  from  the  angular 

Numerous  connecting  nerve  fibres  unite  the 
visual  centres  of  the  hemispheres  with  the  cells  of 
the  frontal  lobes,  to  which  all  visual  impressions, 
having  been  elaborated,  classified,  and  carefully 
arranged  in  these  centres,  are  immediately  re- 
ported for  inspection  and  ideation.  The  nerve 
fibres,  which  connect  the  angular  gyri  with  the 
frontal  lobes,  serve  not  only  to  bear  visual  mes- 
sages from  the  former  to  the  latter,  but  the  re- 
verse. The  effects  of  emotion,  the  results  of  in- 
tellection, and  the  decisions  of  the  will,  all  of 
which  receive  their  final  elaboration,  before  their 
manifestation  in  action,  in  the  cells  of  the  frontal 
lobes,  are  felt,  when  they  are  concerned  with  vis- 
ible objects  or  visual  ideas,  with  greater  or  less 
intensity,  in  the  visual  centres,  and  often  aid  in 
the  revival  of  impressions  in  those  centres.  Mes- 
sages are  thus  sent  along  the  connecting  fibres  be- 
tween the  angular  gyri  and  the  frontal  lobes  in 
both  directions,  —  to  and  from  the  gyri,  and  to 
and  from  the  lobes.  In  the  same  way  all  the 
nerve  centres  of  the  body,  and  all  the  corporeal 
organs,  communicate  directly  or  indirectly  with 
these  lobes,  so  that  not  only  the  special  senses  of 
sight,  hearing,  taste,  smell,  and  tact,  but  every 
organ  and  function  report  to  these  controlling 
ganglia.     By  this  arrangement  the  frontal  lobes 


128  VISIONS. 

are  enabled  to  compare  the  reports  from  all  parts 
of  the  organization  with  each  other,  and  so  to 
arrive  at  a  sound  judgment  of  the  condition  of  the 
mechanism  they  govern,  and  of  the  external  world 
with  which  they  are  thus  brought  into  intimate 
and  constant  relation.  Among  these  reports  those 
from  the  angular  gyri  are  of  course  included,  and 
are  corrected,  when  necessary,  by  comparison  with 
the  reports  from  other  senses  and  organs. 

Sight  is  perfected,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the 
angular  gyrus,  the  cerebral  termination  of  the 
visual  apparatus,  from  which  the  visual  impres- 
sion is  forwarded  to  the  frontal  lobes,  where  it  is 
transformed  into  an  idea.  The  cell-groupings 
of  the  gyrus,  for  example,  being  arranged  into 
the  cipher  of  a  horse,  report  to  the  frontal  lobes 
the  presence  of  a  horse ;  the  latter,  receiving  the 
report,  immediately  produce  the  idea  of  a  horse. 
The  action  of  the  visual  cells  in  the  visual  centre 
is  a  sensation,  which,  transferred  to  the  cells  of 
the  frontal  lobes,  becomes  an  idea.  The  sensa- 
tion and  the  idea,  however,  are  not  identical, 
though  one  evolves  the  other.  They  are  an  il- 
lustration of  what  Mr.  Bain  calls  the  double- 
faced  unitj'^  of  mind  and  body.  The  angular 
gyrus  presents  the  physical,  and  the  frontal  lobes 
give  the  mental  side  of  a  visual  impression. 

In  order  to  comprehend  the  phenomena  of 
orthopia  and  pseudopia,  it  is  important  to  keep 
the  distinction  between  a  visual  sensation  and  a 
visual  idea  well  in  mind  ;  to  remember  that  the 


vrsiONS.  129 

idea  of  an  object  is  not  identical  with  the  visual 
sensation  of  the  same  object;  that  thinking  is 
not  seeing.  The  cell-groupings  and  action  of 
the  frontal  lobes,  by  which  visual  ideas  are  mani- 
fested, are  not  the  same  as  the  cell -groupings 
and  action  of  the  angular  gyri,  by  which  fully 
elaborated  visual  sensations  are  manifested ;  nor 
are  the  products  the  same.  The  common  expres- 
sion, "  I  can  see  it  with  my  mind's  eye,"  recog- 
nizes this  distinction. 

It  has  been  stated  that  under  the  influence  of 
habit,  or  association,  or  of  both,  cell-groupings 
may  be  revived  in  the  visual  centres  of  external 
objects,  which  are  not  objectively  present  to  the 
eye.  When  this  occurs,  the  frontal  lobes  receive 
the  same  visual  report  which  they  would  receive 
if  the  objects  were  present.  The  lobes  are  de- 
ceived into  the  formation  of  visual  ideas,  without 
the  presence  of  any  objective  reality.  This  is 
pseudopia.  It  is  possible  for  the  reverse  to  take 
place ;  for  an  idea  to  assume  such  proportions  of 
vividness  and  intensity  as  to  send  an  impression 
down  to  the  angular  gyri,  and  evoke  there  a 
visual  cell-grouping,  independently  of  any  stim- 
ulus from  the  eye.  In  this  way  visual  impres- 
sions may  travel  in  a  circle  from  the  lobes  to  the 
visual  centres ;  from  the  visual  centres  to  the 
lobes  ;  from  idea  to  sensation  ;  and  back  from 
sensation  to  idea :  the  whole  being  an  intra-cra- 
nial  process.  We  shall  have  occasion  to  call 
attention   again,   in  another  part   of   this  essay, 


130  VISIONS. 

to  this  physiological  and  psychological  phenom- 
enon. 

The  existence  of  different  grades  of  perception 
in  each  of  the  intra-cranial  visual  centres  has 
already  been  pointed  out.  It  has  been  shown 
that  when  waves  of  light  from  a  visible  object 
impinge  on  the  retina,  there  is  no  perception  of 
the  fact ;  the  cerebrum  is  not  conscious  of  the 
phenomenon.  When  they  reach  the  tubercula 
quadrigemina,  perception  is  aroused  ;  conscious- 
ness recognizes  the  approach  of  the  visual  vibra- 
tions, by  which  the  machinery  of  the  tubercles 
is  set  in  motion,  but  there  is  no  perception  of 
the  details  of  the  visual  phenomena.  When  they 
reach  the  angular  gyri,  a  still  higher  grade  of 
perception  is  attained ;  the  details  of  the  visual 
telegram  are  perceived ;  complete  vision  is  ac- 
complished, with  a  corresponding  perception  of 
its  completeness.  When  the  completed  vision 
penetrates  into  the  cells  of  the  frontal  lobes,  and 
is  transformed  into  and  connected  with  ideas,  per- 
ception recognizes  both  the  transformation  and 
the  intellectual  and  emotional  activity,  to  which 
the  transformation  gives  rise.  Perception  in  the 
frontal  lobes,  therefore,  is  something  more  than 
perception  in  the  angular  gyri ;  it  is  sensation 
and  intellection.  "  The  dynamic  conditions  of 
which  the  cells  of  the  cortical  periphery  are  capa- 
ble, represent,  in  a  sensible  form,  clear  and  def- 
inite perceptions, — in  other  terms,  acquired  no- 
tions ;  they  represent,  then,  something  more  than 


V/SIONS.  131 

simple  perception  ;  they  represent  this,  plus  in- 
tellectual work.  Acquired  notions  are  organic- 
ally associated  and  classified  in  the  cortical  periph- 
ery of  the  brain  ;  and  they  can,  by  the  activity 
of  these  cells,  show  themselves  successively  in  the 
centre  of  perception.  Hence,  when  a  lesion  has 
involved  any  point  of  the  cortical  periphery  of 
the  brain,  the  association  of  ideas  may  be  dis- 
turbed ;  and  according  to  the  nature  of  the  le- 
sion (congestion,  inflammation,  or  otherwise), 
there  may  appear  the  phenomena  of  excitement, 
mania,  hallucination,  the  delirium  of  amnesia,  or 
stupidity.  According  to  this  view,  the  centre  of 
perception  is  placed  between  two  sources  of  ex- 
citement, both  of  which  set  going  its  perceiving 
powers ;  on  one  side,  are  the  exciting  causes 
which  reach  it  along  the  nerves ;  on  the  other, 
are  the  exciting  causes  which  reach  it  along  the 
fibres  of  the  white  centre  of  the  encephalon.  By 
the  first,  it  perceives  the  actual  life  of  to-day  ; 
by  the  second,  it  perceives  how  it  felt  and  lived 
formerly."  ^ 

•  What  perception  is  in  its  essence  we  do  not 
know,  and  from  the  nature  of  things  it  is  not 
probable  that  the  human  mind  ever  will  know.  It 
is  a  vital  product,  but  the  mechanism  of  its  pro- 
duction is  a  mystery  ;  no  more  of  a  mystery,  how- 
ever, than  many  other  vital  products.      Physiol- 

1  Dr.  E.  Fourni^,  Recherches  Expe'rimentales,  op.  cit.,  -p.  94 
Tliough  Dr.  Fournie  is  a  physiologist  whose  statements  and 
0])iiii(>ns  must  be  received  with  caution,  he  is  a  suggestive  writer, 
and  his  views  are  often  stri kins'  and  orisrinal. 


132  VISIONS. 

ogists  can  no  more  explain  how  the  blood  is 
transformed  into  a  secretion  like  bile,  or  into  an 
optical  instrument  like  the  retina,  than  they  can 
how  it  is  transformed  into  a  cell,  yielding  percep- 
tion. "  Perception  is  a  vital,  elementary,  inde- 
composible  phenomenon  ;  our  knowledge  of  it 
does  not  go  beyond  this."  Our  ignorance  of  its 
nature,  however,  does  not  prevent  our  recognizing 
its  existence,  estimating  its  value,  or  determining 
its  limitations.  In  the  hemispheres,  and  especially 
in  the  frontal  lobes  of  the  brain,  it  attains  its 
highest  development  and  enjoys  its  largest  range. 
There  it  becomes  what  Leibnitz  called  ajjpercep- 
tion,  or  perception  that  reflects  upon  itself.  When 
sensory  ideas,  whether  visual,  auditory,  tactile,  or 
other,  enter  the  domain  of  self  consciousness,  they 
are  studied  in  all  their  relations  to  the  external 
world  and  to  the  ego.  Thus  investigation,  which 
is  apperception,  is  a  function  of  the  frontal  lobes. 
It  is  clearly  different  from  the  simple  perception 
of  the  existence  of  an  object,  without  regard  to 
its  details,  such  as  occurs  in  the  tubercula  quad- 
rigemina,  and  to  which  perception  in  that  centre 
is  limited  ;  it  is  equally  distinct  from  the  percep- 
tion of  the  existence  of  an  object,  with  a  com- 
prehension of  details,  but  without  regard  to  the 
relations  which  the  object  sustains  to  other  things, 
or  to  attendant  conditions,  such  as  occurs  in  the 
angular  gyri,  and  to  which  perception  in  that 
centre  is  limited.  Wundt  illustrates  this  point  by 
calling   consciousness    internal    sight,  which   has, 


VISIONS.  133 

like  the  eye,  a  definite  field  of  vision.  Upon  this 
field  of  vision  there  is  at  any  given  moment  a 
number  of  objects,  to  one  of  which  attention  is 
directed  to  the  exclusion  of  others.  The  point  to 
which  attention  is  directed  he  calls  the  sight  point. 
The  field  of  vision  is  the  territory  of  perception  ; 
the  sight  point  that  of  apperception.  When  an 
image  enters  the  first  territory  it  is  perceived ; 
when  it  enters  the  second,  it  is  apperceived.  The 
visual  process  terminates,  when  the  angular  gyri 
have  transmitted  their  report  from  the  external 
world  to  the  frontal  lobes.  The  lobes  accept 
this  report,  study  it  in  all  its  relations,  assimilate 
it  and  act  upon  it.  A  recognition  of  this  distinction 
between  the  visual  function  of  the  angular  gyri, 
and  that  of  the  lobes,  is  essential  to  a  comprehen- 
sion of  the  phenomena  of  orthopia  as  well  as  of 
pseudopia.  When  light  waves  from  an  uplifted 
dagger  fall  on  the  retina,  the  eye  records  the  facts 
of  color,  size,  position,  motion,  etc.,  and  transmits 
an  account  of  them  to  the  tubercula  quadrigemina. 
This  centre  carefully  adjusts  the  mechanism  of 
the  eye,  the  iris,  lenses,  muscular  apparatus  and 
the  like,  to  the  demands  of  careful  observation, 
coordinates  the  general  muscular  system  for  any 
movement  the  emergency  may  require,  and  makes 
its  visual  report  to  the  angular  gyrus.  The  latter 
centre  receives  the  report,  perceives  all  the  details 
of  the  dagger,  the  hand  grasping  it,  the  face  and 
action  of  the  owner,  whatever  constitutes  an  exact 
picture  of  the  scene,  and  transmits  a  correspond- 


134  VISIONS. 

ing  pictorial  report  to  the  frontal  lobes.  Upon  re- 
ceiving this  report  —  this  pictorial  representation, 
—  the  lobes  look  at  it,  ascertain  its  significance, 
determine  whether  the  uplifted  dagger  is  raised 
for  inspection  merel}'^,  or  for  a  threatened  or  real 
plunge,  or  for  other  purposes,  communicate  with 
the  instincts  and  emotions,  and  decide  the  will  to 
act. 

It  is  evident  from  the  foregoing  statements,  not 
only  that  sight  is  internal,  or  rather  intracranial, 
being  a  function  of  the  brain,  not  of  the  eye,  but 
that  internal  seeing  is  of  two  kinds  :  one  sensory, 
the  other  ideal ;  one  evolved  and  conditioned  by 
the  cells  of  the  angular  gyri,  the  other  by  those 
of  the  frontal  lobes ;  one  photographing  external 
objects  without  reflecting  upon  them,  the  other 
receiving  the  photographic  impression  and  reflect- 
ing upon  it ;  one  normally  preceding  the  other, 
but  with  the  possibility  of  a  reversed  order ;  one 
being  the  mental  vision  of  poets  and  artists,  re- 
produced from  the  substrata  of  mental  experience, 
the  other  the  assured  vision  of  seers  and  disor- 
dered brains,  reproduced  from  antecedent  sensory 
substrata  ;  one  recognized  by  the  subjects  of  it  as 
subjective,  the  other  by  the  subjects  of  it  as  ob- 
jective ;  one  known  to  be  unreal,  the  other  be- 
lieved to  be  real ;  each  influencing  the  other  ;  and 
both  dependent  upon  and  modified  by  cerebral  and 
nutritive  conditions. 

The  intimate  anatomical  and  physiological  con- 
nection of  the  cerebral  visual  centres  and  frontal 


VISIONS.  135 

lobes  renders  the  reciprocal  influence,  just  alluded 
to,  extremely  probable.  Clinical  and  pbysiologi- 
cal  observation  confirms  its  existence,  and  asserts 
its  importance.  Vivid  ideal  pictures,  painted  by 
strong  emotion  or  intense  volitional  effort  on  the 
organic  structure  of  the  frontal  lobes,  react  on  the 
visual  centres  of  the  hemispheres,  and  lead  to  the 
formation  there  of  visual  cell-groups,  more  or  less 
perfect  in  character.  These  in  turn  visually  ex- 
cite the  lobes,  and  so  by  action  and  reaction  add 
vividness  and  accuracy  to  the  ideal  representa- 
tions. "  When  we  compare  the  miatomical  rela- 
tion of  the  sensorium,  on  the  one  hand,  to  the  cor- 
tical layer  of  the  cerebrum,  and  on  the  other  to 
that  retinal  expansion  of  ganglionic  matter  which 
is  the  recipient  of  visual  impressions,  we  find  the 
two  to  be  so  precisely  identical,  as  to  suggest  that 
its  physiological  relation  to  those  two  organs  must 
be  the  same.  And  as  we  only  become  conscious 
of  the  luminous  impression  by  which  nerve-force 
has  been  excited  in  the  retina,  when  the  transmis- 
sion of  that  nerve-force  through  the  nerve  of  ex- 
ternal sense  has  excited  a  change  in  the  sensorium, 
so  it  would  seem  probable  that  we  only  become 
conscious  of  the  further  change  excited,  in  our 
cerebrum  by  the  sensorial  stimulus  transmitted 
along  its  ascending  fibres,  when  the  reflection  of 
the  cerebral  modification  along  its  descending 
fibres  —  the  nerves  of  the  internal  senses,  —  has 
brought  it  to  react  on  the  sensorium.  In  this 
Doint  of  view,  the  sensorium  is  the  one  centre  of 


136  VISIONS. 

consciousness  for  visual  impressions  on  the  eye 
(and,  by  analogy,  on  the  other  organs  of  sense), 
and  for  ideational  or  emotional  modifications  in 
the  cerebrum,  —  that  is,  in  the  one  case,  for  sen- 
sations^  when  we  become  conscious  of  sense-im- 
pressions ;  and,  on  the  other,  for  ideas  and  emo- 
tions^ when  our  consciousness  has  been  affected  by 
cerebral  changes.  According  to  this  view,  we  no 
more  thinh  ovfeel  with  our  cerebrum,  than  we  see 
with  our  eyes ;  but  the  ego  becomes  conscious 
through  the  same  instrumentality  of  the  retinal 
changes  which  are  translated  (as  it  were)  by  the 
sensorium  into  visual  sensations,  and  of  the  cere- 
bral changes  which  it  translates  into  ideas  or 
emotions.  The  mystery  lies  in  the  act  of  transla- 
tion ;  and  is  no  greater  in  the  excitement  of  idea- 
tional or  emotional  consciousness  by  cerebral 
change,  than  in  the  excitement  of  sensational  con- 
sciousness by  retinal  change."  ^ 

Numerous  examples  might  be  given  in  illus- 
tration of  this  physiological  interchange  and  re- 
inforcement of  ideal  and  sensory  intercranial  pic- 
tures. The  following  is  as  remarkable  as  any. 
It  is  related  by  Dr.  Abercrombie  in  his  "  Intellect- 
ual Powers,"  and  quoted  in  Dr.  Carpenter's  "  Men- 
tal Physiology : "  "  In  the  church  of  St.  Peter,  at 
Cologne,  the  altar-piece  is  a  large  and  valuable 
picture  by  Rubens,  representing  the  martyrdom 
of  the  apostle.  This  picture  having  been  carried 
away  by  the  French  in  1805,  to  the  great  regret 

1  Principles  o/A/entalPhijsiolof/i/,  by  Wm.  B.  Carpenter,  M.  D., 
LL.  D.,  etc.     Am.  ed.  1 874,  pp.  1 1 0,  1 1 1 . 


VISIONS.  137 

of  the  inhabitants,  a  painter  of  that  city  under- 
took to  make  a  copy  of  it  from  recollection  ;  and 
succeeded  in  doing  so  in  such  a  manner,  that  the 
most  delicate  tints  of  the  original  are  preserved 
with  the  most  minute  accuracy.  The  original 
painting  has  now  been  restored,  but  the  copy  is 
preserved  along  with  it ;  and  even  when  they  are 
rigidly  compared  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  distin- 
guish the  one  from  the  other." 

In  this  case  cell-groupings,  representing  Ru- 
bens' picture,  had  been  frequently  called  together 
in  the  angular  gyri  of  the  Cologne  artist  by  the 
visual  stimulus  of  the  picture ;  and  the  impres- 
sions had  been  stamped  into  them  by  close  and 
careful  observation  of  it.  Habit  and  association 
conspired  to  facilitate  the  assembling  of  the  same 
visual  groups.  As  often  as  a  sensory  picture  had 
been  formed  in  the  cerebral  visual  centres,  a  cor- 
responding ideal  picture  was  formed  in  the  frontal 
lobes.  Here,  also,  habit  and  association  had  facil- 
itated the  formation  of  the  same  cell-groupings. 
Each  group  had  learned  to  appear  simultaneously, 
and  to  listen  to  each  other's  call.  When  the 
Cologne  artist  wished  to  recall  and  reproduce  the 
original  painting,  to  which  he  was  denied  access, 
his  will  summoned  his  ideal  picture,  that  is,  the 
cell-groupings  of  his  frontal  lobes  corresponding 
to  it,  which  assembled  with  greater  or  less  fidelity 
at  the  call.  These,  when  assembled,  sent  down 
along  an  efferent  nerve  a  notice  of  their  gathering 
to  the  angular  gyri.     The  cells  of  this  centre,  ac- 


138  VISIONS. 

customed  to  be  grouped  in  a  form  representing 
the  desired  picture,  assembled  automatically,  and 
sending  up  a  visual  stimulus  by  an  afferent  nerve, 
reinforced  the  efforts  at  cell  formation  of  the 
frontal  lobes.  This  process  went  on  till  a  group- 
ing was  formed  in  the  angular  gyri,  which  was 
the  exact  hieroglyphic  of  Rubens's  painting. 
From  this  the  artist  reproduced  the  picture.  He 
copied  the  copy  in  his  brain,  without  the  objective 
presence  of  the  original  work. 

Habit  and  association,  including  under  these 
terms  Bain's  law  of  contiguity  and  Dr.  Carpen- 
ter's law  of  similarity,  are  as  powerful  factors  in 
the  process  of  reviving  cell-groupings,  whether 
visual  or  other,  in  the  frontal  lobes,  as  they  are  in 
performing  a  similar  office  in  the  angular  gyri. 
Their  territory  extends  throughout  the  cortical 
cerebral  layers,  and  embraces  the  cell-manifesta- 
tion of  all  forms  of  emotion,  ideation,  and  volition, 
as  well  as  the  translation  of  special  sense  messages 
or  imag-es  into  ideal  ones.  The  method  of  their 
action  and  the  aid  they  render  in  the  revival  and 
reproduction  of  past  impressions  have  been  suf- 
ficiently described  already ;  and  the  description 
may  be  applied,  mutatis  mutandis,  as  accurately 
to  their  influence  over  cell  activity  in  the  lobes, 
as  in  the  visual  centres.  There  are  other  factors 
than  habit  and  association,  however,  which  ren- 
der essential  service  in  the  process  of  re-presenting 
old  impressions  as  well  as  in  that  of  intensifying 
the  action  of  new  ones  ;  and  which,  while  they 


,^^k^^^^ 


VISIONS.  139 

exert  an  influence  over  mental  manifestations  in 
the  gray  matter  of  the  whole  cerebral  mass,  find 
their  most  important  and  most  mysterious  sphere 
in  the  frontal  lobes.  These  are,  emotion,  expect- 
ant attention,  automatism,  blood-supply,  including 
nutj:ition,  drugs,  disease,  and  volition, 
/'^motion,  in  proportion  to  its  strength,  gives 
vividness  and  intensity  to  every  cerebral  impres- 
sion. Hope,  fear,  love,  hate,  desire,  aversion,  ad- 
miration, contempt,  hunger,  thirst,  and  the  like, 
all  in  varying  degrees,  deepen  the  impression 
vs^hich  objects,  associated  with  these  emotions,  im- 
print upon  the  cells  of  the  brain.  When  strong 
feeling  is  connected  with  any  person  or  thing,  a 
single  look  at  whoever  or  whatever  so  stirs  the 
heart  is  sufficient  to  produce  an  effect  upon  the 
cell-structure  of  the  angular  gyri  and  frontal  lobes, 
more  definite  and  permanent  than  a  thousand  su- 
perficial glances  at  indifferent  objects  could  bring 
about.  Emotion  is  the  force  which  strikes  the 
die  deep  into  the  cells,  whereon  are  engraved  the 
pictorial  and  other  sensory  records  of  the  mind, 
and  moulds  the  structure  through  which  ideas  flow 
and  volition  acts.  It  is  the  stimulus  which  makes 
the  brain  catch  the  fleeting  colors,  and  sharp  or 
shadowy  outlines  and  expressions  of  the  objective 
world,  and  the  heat  which  burns  them  into  the 
sensitized  plates  of  the  centres  of  special  sense  and 
corresponding  tissues  of  the  lobes. 

The  influence  of  emotion  over  certain  parts  of 
the  organization,  where  its  action  can  be  recog- 


140  VISIONS. 

nized  and  is  acknowledged,  affords  both  an  indi- 
cation and  illustration  of  the  great  influence  it 
may  exert  over  the  delicate  and  mobile  structures 
of  the  brain.  There  is  apparently  no  part  of  the 
body,  placed  more  completely  out  of  the  reach  of 
the  waves  of  emotion  than  the  hair ;  yet  emotion 
has  blanched  the  hair  in  less  than  twenty-four 
hours.  One  of  the  best  known  and  most  striking 
instances  of  this  phenomenon  occurred  in  the  per- 
son of  the  unfortunate  Marie  Antoinette.  "  Be- 
fore the  fatal  day  arrived,"  says  M.  Jules  Janin, 
"  the  queen  asked  for  a  priest ;  the  republic  sent 
her  one  of  its  own,  whom  the  queen  refused  to  see 
and  knelt  alone  before  her  God.     At  last  the  day 

of  her  deliverance  came She  arranged  her 

lovely  hair  for  the  last  time,  and  shuddered  to 
find  it  had  grown  perfectly  white  in  her  last  twen- 
ty-four hours."  The  inexpressible  dread  and 
agony,  attendant  upon  her  terrible  situation  and 
approaching  execution,  probably  induced  at  the 
base  of  the  queen's  brain  a  hyperaemia  of  some  of 
the  vaso-motor  centres.  As  a  result  of  this  con- 
gestion, the  circulation  through  the  hairy  scalp 
was  inhibited  and  the  hair  suffered ;  a  striking 
testimony  to  the  power  of  intense  emotion  over 
the  human  organization.  The  blush  of  gratified 
pride  and  of  offended  modesty,  the  pale  face  of 
anger  and  the  cutis  anserina  of  terror,  all  testify 
to  the  same  power. 

The  following  instance  shows  that  intense  emo- 
tion may  go  so  far  as  to  change  the  quality  of  the 


VISIONS.  141 

olood  and  destroy  life.  "  A  young  and  beautiful 
woman  in  the  middle  rank  of  life,  liigbly  but  self- 
educated,  of  great  mental  endowment,  of  admira- 
ble taste,  and  strong  sensibility  and  attachment, 
was  unconsciously  the  one  by  whose  hand  a  poi- 
sonous dose  was  administered  to  her  sole  surviving 
parent,  to  whom  she  was  attached  with  all  the 
fervor  and  devoted  ness  of  a  daughter's  love.  The 
phial  contained  an  ounce  and  a  half  of  laudanum  ; 
it  was  given  by  mistake  for  a  senna  draught. 
When  presented  to  him  by  his  daughter,  he  tasted 
it,  and  said  he  did  not  like  it  and  would  not  take 
it.  He  had  not  been  in  good  health  ;  it  was  with 
much  entreaty  he  was  ever  prevailed  on  to  take 
the  medicines  prescribed.  She  urged  him  in 
terms  the  most  affectionate  and  persuasive  to  take 
his  draught ;  he  replied,  '  Dearest,  you  know  I 
never  can  refuse  you  anything,'  and  swallowed  it. 
Three  hours  passed  away  before  she  was  aware 
of  her  terrible  mistake.  She  was  aroused  to  it 
by  the  state  of  stupor  into  which  her  father  had 
fallen,  when  it  flashed  across  her  mind.  She  found 
the  senna  draught  which  she  had  intended  to  have 
given  untouched ;  she  also  found  the  word  '  poison ' 
printed  in  large  letters  on  the  empty  phial.  The 
shock  to  her  mind  was  terrific.  She  became  like 
one  insane.  All  possible  means  were  employed 
to  save  the  life  of  the  poisoned  man,  but  they 
were  employed  too  late.  He  died  profoundly 
comatose  at  the  end  of  a  few  hours.  From  the 
moment  of  his  last  breath  a  change  came  over 


142  VISIONS. 

her.  She  was  lost  to  all  knowledge  or  notice 
of  persons  and  occurrences  around ;  she  lay  like 
a  statue,  pale  and  motionless.  Food  she  never 
took,  excepting  when  it  was  placed  upon  her 
tongue.  The  only  sound  which  escaped  her  lips 
was  a  faint  yes  or  no.  When  asked  what  ailed 
her,  she  would  place  her  hand  upon  her  heart. 
Her  extremities  were  cold.  She  sighed  and  shiv- 
ered frequently,  and  dozed  brokenly  and  protract- 
edly. To  her,  the  world,  and  all  things  in  it, 
were  a  blank.  Tonics  and  stimulants  were  ad- 
ministered, air  and  scene  were  changed,  kind  and 
compassionate  relatives  and  friends  tried  and  tried 
in  vain  to  rouse  and  console ;  she  pined  away,  and 
nought  but  a  breathing  skeleton  remained.  She 
lingered  on  with  very  little  variety  or  alteration 
of  symptoms  for  ten  months.  Before  her  dissolu- 
tion she  became  cedematous.  The  swelling,  soft 
and  transparent,  was  first  perceived  in  the  lower 
extremities,  but  gradually  progressed  upwards. 
It  became  apparent  on  the  backs  of  the  hands, 
along  the  arms,  and  ultimately  it  was  universal. 
All  the  viscera,  spinal,  cerebral,  thoracic,  and  ab- 
dominal, were  patiently  and  minutely  examined. 
No  ti-ace  of  organic  change  of  structure  could  be 

detected This  poor  patient,  beaten  down 

in  mind  and  body,  breathed  her  last  without  a 
moan  or  a  painful  struggle.  The  mental  shock 
had  paralyzed  the  vital  actions,  an  evidence  that 
in  real  life  events  do  occur  which  transcend  even 
the  highest  flights  of  fiction.    An  almost  total  sus- 


VISTONS.  143 

pension  of  nutrition,  sanguification,  and  vascular 
energy  characterized  this  case.  The  result  was 
universal  dropsy  consisting  in  the  thinnest  seros- 

Such  is  the  influence  of  emotion,  when  intensely 
excited,  ovei-  parts  of  the  organization  which  are 
ordinarily  very  little,  or  not  at  all  affected  by  it. 
If  it  possesses  such  power  over  organs  with  which 
it  is  only  remotely  connected,  it  is  difficult  to  as- 
sign any  limits  to  its  influence  over  the  nervous 
centres  themselves,  with  which  it  is  intimately 
associated.  Hence  we  can  understand  how  it 
may  force  the  impression  of  a  look  or  object,  of  a 
face  or  deed,  seen  but  once,  so  deeply  into  a  group 
of  cells  in  the  visual  compartments  of  the  brain, 
that  half  a  century  or  more  of  subsequent  life 
shall  not  efface  it.  My  own  experience  furnishes 
an  illustration  of  this  statement.  When  a  child, 
between  two  and  three  years  old,  so  young  that 
some  have  doubted  if  I  could  remember  the  event 
about  to  be  recorded,  a  visitor  at  my  father's 
house  in  the  country  committed  suicide,  by  shoot- 
ing himself  through  the  head.  He  managed  the 
matter  so  that  the  ball,  entering  probably  by  his 
mouth,  passed  out  through  the  back  of  his  head, 
and  through  the  hat  which  he  wore  at  the  time. 
I  have  only  an  indistinct  recollection  of  the  ex- 
citement, confusion,  and  horror  which,  naturally 
attendant  upon  such  an  event  any  where,  would  be 
exaggerated  in  a  quiet  country  place.     My  child- 

1  Dublin  Quarterly  Journal  of  Medicine,  August  1,  1853,  p.  1,  etc 


144  VISIONS. 

ish  curiosity  and  wonder,  with  a  sort  of  name- 
less dread,  were,  of  course,  raised  to  their  high- 
est pitch  ;  they  seized  hold  of  a  single  picture,  and 
burnt  it  into  the  cell  structure  of  my  brain  so 
deeply,  that  the  lapse  of  more  than  fifty  years 
have  not  effaced  it.  That  picture  was  the  hole  in 
the  victim's  hat,  made  by  the  passage  of  the  fatal 
ball.  As  I  write  these  lines  I  can  see  the  hole, 
with  fuzz  or  fur  sticking  out  around  it,  as  if  elec- 
trified, as  distinctly  as  if  the  event  had  occurred 
yesterday.  All  other  attendant  circumstances,  the 
confusion,  the  blood,  the  corpse,  and  the  ghastli- 
ness  of  death,  have  faded  away,  but  the  hole  with 
its  fringe  of  projecting  fur  remains.  There  are 
times  when  that  hole,  unthought  of  and  uncalled 
for,  comes  strangely  before  me.  A  black  hat  in  a 
crowd,  one  among  a  thousand  similar  ones,  will, 
why  I  know  not,  sometimes  possess  that  hole.  It 
may  appear  in  a  dream,  or  be  seen  at  a  dinner 
party  or  a  club,  where  some  one  tells  the  story  of 
a  suicide  ;  or  be  drawn  into  my  field  of  subjective 
vision  by  a  force,  of  which  the  character  and 
source  are  alike  undiscovered  and  undiscoverable. 
Emotion  by  a  single  blow  stamped  the  visual  rec- 
ord of  that  hole  and  hat  indelibly  into  a  group  of 
cerebral  cells,  and  the  record  has  for  half  a  century 
since  occasionally  obtruded  itself  into  the  sphere 
of  consciousness,  or  been  now  and  then  pushed  up 
there  by  some  recondite  association. 

Emotion,  which  is  so  influential  in  fixing  visual 
and  other  impressions  on  the  cerebral  structures, 


VISIONS.  145 

is  not  less  efficient  in  facilitating  the  process  by 
which  old  impressions  are  revived  and  reproduced. 
It  enlarges  the  power  and  quickens  the  action  of 
habit  and  association,  so  that  under  its  stimulus 
both  of  these  forces,  which  play  so  important  a 
part  in  re-presenting  antecedent  sensory  images, 
work  with  increased  rapidity  and  accuracy.  A 'lu- 
dicrous scene,  witnessed  by  half  a  dozen  individ- 
uals, will  provoke  a  degree  of  laughter  in  each 
one,  varying  with  his  emotional  state  at  the  time; 
and  upon  each  one's  emotional  state,  at  some  sub- 
sequent period,  will  depend  the  vividness  with 
which  the  original  scene  and  corresponding  laugh- 
ter can  be  reproduced.  Sir  Walter  Scott  recog- 
nized the  power  of  emotion  over  the  organization, 
by  making  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert  fall  dead  from 
his  horse,  without  a  wound,  before  the  lance  of 
his  enfeebled  and  hated  rival,  Ivanhoe.  He  also 
recognized  its  power  in  reviving  pictures  of  the 
past,  when  he  made  Sir  George  Staunton  recall, 
after  years  of  absence  and  in  a  moment  of  excite- 
ment, "  the  Grindstone,"  and  "  the  white  rock  in 
line  with  the  steeple."  "By  G — ,  I  think  your 
honor  kens  the  bay  as  weel  as  me,"  was  the  vet- 
eran boatman's  emphatic  testimony  to  the  ac- 
curacy with  which  Sir  George's  brain  rediscov- 
ered the  land  and  water  marks  of  the  scene  of 
his  youthful  follies  and  crimes.  Who  has  not 
learned  from  experience  how  vividly  some  sudden 
emotion,  joy  or  grief,  will  produce  an  ideal  pic- 
ture  of  the  past,  making  the   present   less  real 

10 


146  VISIONS. 

than  fgrmer  scenes  ?  A  bereaved  mother,  look- 
ing upon  a  photograph,  or  it  may  be  only  upon  a 
lock  of  hair  of  a  deceased  son  or  daughter,  will 
see  her  loved  one's  face  as  if  alive.  Love  and 
grief,  reinforcing  the  power  of  association,  will  so 
stimulate  her  ideational  and  visual  centres,  as  to 
revive  cell-groups  which  represented  her  living 
child.  Volition  is  generally  intensified  by  emo- 
tion. The  blow  of  an  angry  or  terrified  will  is 
more  quick  and  violent  than  that  of  quiet  de- 
termination. Yet  the  023posite  may  be  the  case. 
Timidity,  shame,  and  modesty  may  paralyze 
effort.  In  seeking  for  an  explanation  of  the  phe- 
nomena of  pseudopia,  so  far  as  the  will  affords 
any  light,  the  law,  not  the  exception  to  it,  must 
be  borne  in  mind,  that  emotion  modifies  volition 
in  the  direction  of  intensifying  the  latter. 

Expectant  attention  is  volition,  modified  by 
emotion  in  the  way  just  described,  and  is  an  im- 
portant factor  in  facilitating  many  of  the  proc- 
esses of  perception  and  ideation.  It  does  not  so 
much  initiate  ideas,  as  it  prepares  the  way  for 
their  evolution.  It  polarizes  the  cerebral  cells  in 
the  direction  of  some  desired  result,  whether  sen- 
sory or  ideal.  Whatever  the  mind  desires  is  more 
likely  to  be  attained  under  its  influence  than 
apart  from  it.  This  is  true  not  only  of  what  may 
be  called  legitimate  mental  operations,  but  of 
illusory  perceptions.  Its  greatest  power  is  man- 
ifested in  the  revival  and  reproduction  of  cell- 
groups  in  the  nervous  centres,  which  have  been 


VISIONS.  147 

previously  and  frequently  formed  there,  and  of 
the  corresponding  ideal  and  sensory  pictures. 
When  attention  is  exerted  for  the  purpose,  and 
with  the  expectation  of  seeing  a  familiar  object, 
or  attaining  a  familiar  end,  the  object  is  far  more 
likely  to  appear  and  the  end  to  be  reached,  than 
if  no  such  purpose  existed,  or  no  such  expectation 
was  raised. 

The  influence  of  expectant  attention  in  facil- 
itating certain  processes  of  the  organization,  or 
as  an  assistant  in  the  accomplishment  of  certain 
ends,  has  long  been  recognized  by  physicians, 
and  applied  by  them  in  therapeutics.  Its  power 
over  the  body  as  a  therapeutic  agent  illustrates, 
and  to  some  extent  explains,  its  action  in  the 
higher  nervous  centres.  "  Medicines,"  says  one 
of  the  most  cautious  and  accurate  American  med- 
ical writers,  "  as  a  general  rule,  will  act  with 
greater  certainty  when  their  legitimate  effects  are 
known  and  expected.  An  emetic  will  be  more 
likely  to  vomit,  if  the  patient  anticipate  this  ef- 
fect from  it.  The  cooperation  of  faith  with  the 
medicine  will  often  favor  its  action.  This  is 
more  especially  true  when  the  nervous  system 
is  prominently  concerned.  The  full  belief  in  the 
efficacy  of  quinia  in  intermittent  diseases  aids 
considerably  in  the  prevention  of  paroxysm."  ^ 
Surgeons  are  familiar  with  the  physiological  fact, 
and  act  upon  it,   that   an   individual  will  come 

1  A  Treatise  on  Therapeutics  and  Pharmacology,  or  Materia  Med- 
ica,  by  George  B.  Wood,  M.  D.,  etc.,  etc.,  vol.  i.,  p.  40. 


148  VISIONS. 

more  rapidly,  pleasantly,  and  effectually  under 
the  anjBsthetic  influence  of  ether,  if  he  expects 
to  be  made  insensible,  and  gives  himself  up  to 
the  inhalation  of  the  vapor,  than  if  he  is  in  an 
opposite  condition.  In  this  particular  instance, 
expectant  attention  is  of  great  practical  impor- 
tance. Sometimes  its  power  over  the  system  is 
such  as  to  obtain  extraordinary  results  from  the 
administration  of  medicines.  I  once  gave  ten 
grains  of  Dover's  powder  to  a  stout  hearty  Irish 
woman  at  night  as  an  anodyne.  She  expected  a 
cathartic,  supposed  she  had  taken  a  cathartic,  and 
was  determined  to  have  a  cathartic  result.  Hav- 
ing previously  taken  some  laxative  preparation  of 
her  own  prescribing,  without  avail,  she  was  all 
the  more  anxious  for  the  success  of  this.  When 
I  made  my  visit  the  next  day,  she  met  me  with 
a  beaming  countenance,  and  in  glowing  Celtic 
phrase  expressed  her  gratitude  for  the  happy  re- 
sult which  had  been  attained.  The  usual  phys- 
iological action  of  Dover's  powder  had  been  an- 
tagonized by  attention  to  an  expected  result. 

Expectant  attention  involves  sympathy,  hope, 
belief,  faith,  and  imitation  ;  and  to  a  large  extent 
achieves  its  results,  in  reviving  by-gone  images 
and  ideas,  by  the  aid  of  these  emotions.  Imag- 
ination is  also  an  important  factor  in  this  pro- 
cess, and  is  intimately  connected  with  emotional 
states,  though  very  different  from  them.  Com- 
bined with  them,  it  adds  extraordinary  energy  to 
the  power  of  expectant  attention,  and  enables  it 


VISIONS.  149 

to  attain  its  greatest  and  most  mysterious  mar- 
vels. "  When  a  person  on  swallowing  a  bread- 
pill,  in  the  belief  that  it  possesses  aperient  proper- 
ties, is  purged,  it  is  said  to  be  through  his  imag- 
ination ;  the  mental  condition  present  yielding, 
on  analysis,  a  definite  direction  of  thought  to  the 
intestinal  canal ;  such  leading  idea  exciting  the 
same  peristaltic  action  as  would  have  been  in- 
duced by  castor-oil.  The  force  of  this  current  of 
thought  is  augmented  by  expectation.  The  other 
day  a  lady  nurse  at  the  Plymouth  Hospital  told 
me  of  a  patient  in  one  of  the  female  wai'ds,  who 
was  much  disconcerted  at  the  doctor  having  left 
the  hospital  without  ordering  an  aperient  pill,  as  he 
had  intended  to  do.  The  nurse  procured  a  bread- 
pill,  and  satisfied  her  mind.  Next  day  she  found, 
on  inquiry,  that  it  had  answered  its  purpose  satis- 
factorily. Again,  I  hold  a  ruler  in  my  hand,  and 
puiut  it  to  a  painful  region  of  the  body  of  a  pa- 
tient who  entertains  the  opinion  that  I  am  about 
to  relieve  the  pain.  The  patient  imagining  that 
the  ruler  will  be  the  means  of  curing  her,  believes 
in  a  force  which  does  not  exist,  —  a  curative  power 
passing  from  the  ruler  to  the  body,  —  and  is  re- 
lieved. That  she  is  relieved  is  no  imagination. 
What  cured  her?  Merely  to  say  it  was  the  im- 
agination is  no  solution  of  the  problem.  What 
really  happened  was  that  her  attention  was  ar- 
rested and  forcibly  directed  to  the  part,  the  prom- 
inent idea  being  the  firm  conviction  that  the  mor- 
bid symptoms  would  pass  away.     In   other  cases 


150  VISIONS. 

the  fixed  idea  may  be,  on  the  contrary,  that  cer- 
tain plienomena  will  occur  ;  that  there  will  be  pain, 
or  redness  of  the  skin,  or  loss  of  muscular  .power, 
and  should  these  supervene,  we  say,  as  before,  it 
was  due  to  the  imagination.  This  medical  use 
of  the  term  has  for  its  basis  that  thinking  upon 
an  object  which,  as  Dugald  Stewart  points  out, 
is  used  by  Shakespeare  as  synonymous  with  the 
imagination,  when  he  speaks  of  '  thinking '  on 
the  frostj''  Caucasus,  the  '  apprehension  '  of  the 
good,  and  the  '  imagination '  of  a  feast."  ^ 

From  this  account  of  the  power  of  expectant 
attention  over  organs  and  functions,  which  lie 
remote  from  the  cerebral  nerve  centres,  we  can 
form  some  notion  of  its  influence  over  these  cen- 
tres themselves.  Indeed,  it  is  probably  through 
its  influence  over  these,  that  it  produces  the  ef- 
fects which  have  been  described.  It  would  exceed 
the  limits  of  the  present  essay  to  describe  the  full 
extent  of  this  influence ;  for  our  purpose  it  is  sufii- 
cient,  here,  to  emphasize  the  fact  and  character  of 
its  action  upon  the  visual,  auditory,  and  ideational 
centres  ;  ujDon  these,  it  acts  efiiciently,  aiding  the 
force  of  habit,  association,  and  emotion  in  the  re- 
vival of  old  cell-groupings,  and  the  consequent  re- 
production of  past  images  and  ideas.  One  who 
expects  to  see  the  face  of  a  departed  friend  or 
child,  around  which  are  clustered  the  deepest  and 
tenderest  emotions  of  the  human  heart,  and  with 

1  Influence  of  the  Mind  on  the  Bodij,  by  Daniel  Hack  Tuke, 
M  D.,  etc.,  etc.   Am.  ed.  1872,  pp.  19,  20. 


VISIONS.  151 

whicli  are  associated  life's  hopes  and  disappoint- 
ments and  deeds,  is  placed  in  the  most  favorable 
condition  for  the  formation  of  cell-groups,  capa- 
ble of  bringing  the  familiar  face  within  the  field 
of  subjective  vision.  Under  such  circumstances 
the  most  remote  suggestions  and  shadowy  traces 
of  resemblance  are  sometimes  sufficient  to  produce 
an  ideal  vision,  or  even  a  sensory  representation. 
When  Polonius,  at  Hamlet's  bidding,  saw  a  cloud 
assume  the  likeness  of  a  whale,  he  illustrated  a 
profound  physiological  law  as  well  as  the  obsequi- 
ous subservience  of  a  courtier. 

Automatism,  that  is,  automatic  or  reflex  action, 
has  been  described  in  the  earlier  part  of  this  mon- 
ograph as  a  contrivance  of  the  nervous  system,  by 
means  of  which  most  of  the  phenomena  of  life  are 
accomplished.  Some  physiologists  assert  that 
even  the  highest  functions  of  the  cerebrum  are 
performed  through  its  agency.  Without  accepting 
the  latter  statement  to  its  full  extent,  it  is  clear 
that  all  the  ganglia,  spinal,  sympathetic,  cerebellar, 
and  cerebral,  are  subject  to  its  power,  and  that  it  is 
difficult,  perhaps  impossible,  to  define  or  limit  its 
jurisdiction.  It  is  unnecessary  to  repeat  the  de- 
scription, previously  given,  of  reflex  action ;  but 
without  doing  so,  it  is  important,  in  this  connec- 
tion, to  call  attention  to  what  may  be  called  ac- 
quired automatism,  or  the  power,  which  the  nerv- 
ous apparatus  gains,  after  persistent  effort  in  any 
given  direction,  of  doing  that  easil}^,  automatically, 
and    almost   unconsciously,    which,  at   first,    was 


152  VISIONS. 

difficult,  volitional,  and  conscious.  The  facility 
which  the  human  mechanism  acquires  of  perform- 
ing, with  apparent  spontaneity,  the  complex  acts 
of  walking,  talking,  handicraft,  and  the  like,  are 
familiar  illustrations  of  this  fact.  Our  hands  and 
feet,  when  instructed  and  trained,  acquire  the 
power  of  acting  as  if  they  were  independent 
beings ;  so  do  our  eyes  and  ears,  though  we  are 
less  accustomed  to  recognize  the  automatic  action 
of  the  latter  than  of  the  former.  An  eye,  trained 
to  watch  and  guide  the  movements  of  a  shuttle 
or  needle,  acquires  a  marvellous  facility  of  auto- 
matic action  in  doing  so.  The  cells  of  the  motor 
centres,  which  coordinate  and  govern  locomotion, 
are  so  frequently  grouped  together  for  that  ob- 
ject, that  they  assemble  on  the  slightest  hint,  and 
when  assembled  possess  an  acquired  power  of  act- 
ing automatically.  In  like  manner,  certain  cells 
of  the  visual  centres  are  often  grouped  together 
by  the  frequent  presentation  of  the  same  object 
to  the  eye,  and  the  visual  groups  thus  formed 
acquire,  at  length,  the  power  of  transmitting  a 
visual  message  to  the  frontal  lobes,  automatically, 
that  is,  with  very  little  regard,  or  possibly  no  re- 
gard, to  the  objective  presentation.  If  it  should 
k30  happen,  as  it  sometimes  will,  that  a  particular 
visual  group,  the  hieroglyphic  of  a  familiar  face, 
for  example,  should  be  called  together  by  some 
remote  association  or  intense  emotion,  in  the  way 
previously  described,  the  group  would  act  auto- 
matically by  virtue   of  its   acquired  automatism, 


VISIONS.  153 

and  spontaneously  send  up  a  visual  report  to  a 
higher  station.  Under  such  circumstances,  an  in- 
dividual, like  the  Cologne  artist,  would  have  sub- 
jective but  not  objective  vision. 

Association  utters  a  call  for  the  assembling  of  a 
cerebral  cell-group  ;  habit  enables  it  to  form  with 
facility ;  emotion  imparts  distinctness  to  it ;  ex- 
pectant attention  anticipates  and  urges  its  appear- 
ance ;  automatism  gives  it  power  to  act ;  and  the 
ideational  centres  welcome  and  utilize  the  result. 

The  laws  or  modes  of  cerebral  activity,  which 
have  hitherto  been  considered  on  account  of  their 
intimate  connection  with  the  phenomena  of  pseud- 
opia,  are  some  of  the  laws,  perhaps  the  principal 
ones,  which  the  brain  exhibits  in  its  normal  con- 
dition. They  are  necessarily  more  or  less  modified 
in  their  operation,  by  any  abnormal  condition  of 
that  organ.  Any  change  of  nerve  structure,  or 
alteration  of  the  quantity  or  quality  of  blood  cir- 
culating through  the  cerebral  tissues,  and  conse- 
quently of  their  nutrition,  involves  a  correspond- 
ing change  in  the  manifestations  of  cell-power. 
Any  or  all  of  these  manifestations  may  be  in- 
creased or  diminished  or  abolished,  by  organic 
or  functional  cerebral  changes.  Hence  it  becomes 
necessary  to  describe,  as  briefly  as  the  object  be- 
fore us  will  permit,  the  mutual  relations  of  blood 
and  brain.  The  subject  is  a  large  and  important 
one.  Only  a  few  salient  points,  which  bear  di- 
rectly upon  our  purpose,  can  be  touched  upon 
here. 


154  VISIONS. 

A  most  interesting  anatomical  fact  arrests  our 
attention,  as  soon  as  we  glance  at  the  relation  of 
blood  and  brain  to  each  other.  Tliat  fact  is  the 
enormous  amount  of  blood,  furnished  to  the  brain 
and  consumed  there,  in  comparison  with  the 
amount  sent  to  the  rest  of  the  body.  "In  the 
case  of  man,  although  the  brain  has  not  ordinarily 
more  than  about  one  fortieth  of  the  weight  of  the 
body,  yet  it  is  estimated  to  receive  from  one  sixth 
to  one  fifth  of  the  whole  circulating  blood."  ^ 
There  is,  of  course,  an  object  in  supplying  the 
brain  with  such  a  wealth  of  blood,  the  costliest 
compound  of  the  organization,  and  that  object  is 
apparent,  when  we  reflect  that  the  blood  is  the 
life  of  the  body,  and  consequently  of  every  organ 
in  the  body.  Wherever  the  largest  amount  of 
blood  is  present  and  consumed,  there  will  always 
be  found  the  greatest  functional  and  organic  ac- 
tivity. Vital  manifestations  are  proportional  to 
blood  consumption.  In  the  brain,  where  the  high- 
est forms  of  such  manifestations,  sensation,  idea- 
tion, and  volition  are  exhibited,  the  most  blood  is 
consumed.  The  cell-groupings  and  cell-modifica- 
tions, the  organization  and  destruction  of  proto- 
plasmic material  for  the  evolution  of  force,  the 
transmission  of  visual  reports  from  one  visual 
centre  to  another,  the  transformation  of  sensory 
pictures  into  ideas,  and  all  the  complicated  phe- 
nomena, attending  the  process  of  vision  from  ob- 
jective to  subjective  sight,  to  which  such  constant 
^  Principles  of  Mental  Physiology,  by  W.  B.  Carpenter,  p.  38. 


VISIONS.  155 

reference  has  been  made  in  tliese  pages,  all  de- 
pend on  the  blood  as  their  source  and  supply  of 
energy.  Sensation,  ideation,  and  volition  are  as 
dependent  on  the  quantity  and  quality  of  cerebral 
blood  supply,  as  electricity  is  upon  the  quantity 
and  quality  of  the  fluid  which  supplies  the  bat- 
tery generating  it. 

Blood  performs  a  triple  function  in  the  develop- 
ment of  nerve  force.  It  affords  to  nerve  struc- 
tures material  for  the  metamorphosis  which  goes 
on  in  them  unceasingly  while  life  continues  ;  it 
supplies  oxygen,  by  the  action  of  which  on  nerve 
structures  force  is  developed  ;  and  it  removes  the 
waste  which  metamorphosis  of  tissue  and  utiliza- 
tion of  force  necessitate.  A  diminished  quantity  of 
blood  passing  through  the  ganglionic  nerve  centres, 
visual  and  others,  produces  as  a  rule  an  inactive 
condition  in  them,  so  that  they  respond  less  readily 
than  usual  to  their  appropriate  stimuli.  An  in- 
creased quantity,  passing  through  their  capilla- 
ries —  hypersemia  —  is  followed  or  accompanied 
by  greater  nerve-activity  and  corresponding  aug- 
mentation of  susceptibility  to  stimuli.  When  the 
abstraction  of  blood  is  carried  so  far  as  to  drain  it 
all,  or  nearly  all  away,  complete  abolition  of  nerve 
power  —  of  sensation,  thought,  and  volition  —  is 
produced  ;  and  the  same  result  follows  an  exces- 
sive flow  of  blood  into  the  intra-cranial  capillaries, 
leading  to  congestion  with  pressure  or  extravasa- 
tion. If  either  the  abstraction  of  blood  from  the 
ferebral  nerve  centres,  or  its  flow  into  them,  passes 


150  VISIONS. 

certain  tolerably  well  defined  limits,  all  manifesta- 
tions of  nerve  force  are  suspended  or  rendered 
impossible.  Within  these  limits,  an  abnormal 
diminution  of  blood  circulating  through  the  brain, 
excepting  in  some  diseased  states,  represses,  and 
the  opposite  augments  these  manifestations. 

The  mysterious  physiological  process  of  meta- 
morphosis of  tissue,  goes  on  in  the  brain  as  well 
as  in  all  other  parts  of  the  organization,  and  there- 
fore measures  correlated  mental  activity,  as  accu- 
rately as  it  measures  the  secretion  of  bile  in  the 
liver,  or  muscular  effort  in  the  muscles.  Cere- 
bral, like  muscular  metamorphosis,  requires  oxygen 
for  its  performance.  Metamorphosis  results  from 
combustion.  Hence  if  the  blood,  without  being 
deficient  in  quantity,  is  poor  in  oxygen,  there  will 
be  diminished  metamorphosis,  and  corresponding 
inactivity  of  the  cerebral  ganglia.  The  visual 
centres  are  not  exempt  from  this  law.  The  due 
performance  of  their  functions  depends  upon  the 
destructive  and  constructive  metamorphosis  of 
their  peculiar  structures,  and  this  upon  the  oxy- 
gen which  they  derive  from  the  blood.  Called 
ganglia,  they  are  delicate  furnaces  of  marvellous 
construction,  constantly  supplied  with  combustible 
matter,  which,  kindled  by  rays  or  waves  of  light, 
reaching  them  from  visible  objects  through  the 
burning  retina,  furnish  heat,  by  means  of  whicli 
the  process  of  vision  is  rendered  possible,  sensory 
nnpressions  are  transformed  into  ideal  images,  and 
the  latter  made  the  substrata  of  thought  and  voli- 


VISIONS.  157 

tion.  For  all  these  purposes,  a  continual  supply 
of  oxygen  from  the  blood  is  as  essential  as  the 
oxygen  of  the  atmosphere  is  to  the  sparkling  of  a 
fire-fly,  the  combustion  of  coal,  or  the  flash  of  ar- 
tillery. The  curious  change  of  force  from  waves 
of  light  to  those  of  thought,  by  the  aid  of  oxygen, 
has  many  analogies  in  the  transformations  of  the 
world  about  us,  especially  in  the  changes  r^ulting 
from  the  correlation  of  force.  Mr.  W.  R.  Grove 
devised  an  ingenious  and  elegant  experiment  which 
illustrates  this  statement.  He  arranged  a  box 
filled  with  water,  in  which  was  enclosed  a  prepared 
daguerreotype  plate,  a  gridiron  of  silver  wire,  a 
galvanometer  coil,  a  Brequet's  helix,  and  a  set  of 
needles,  in  such  a  way  that  as  soon  as  light,  by 
raising  the  shutter  of  the  box,  was  allowed  to  im- 
pinge on  the  plate,  there  was  produced,  light  being 
the  initiating  force,  "  chemical  action  on  the  plate, 
electricity  circulating  through  the  wires,  magnet- 
ism in  the  coil,  heat  in  the  helix,  and  motion  in 
the  needles."  ^  What  began  as  an  image  on  the 
plate  became  motion  in  the  needles.  So  in  the 
process  of  vision,  what  begins  as  an  image,  initi- 
ated by  light  on  the  retina,  results  as  thought  in 
the  frontal  ganglia.  We  know  as  little  of  the 
precise  nature  of  the  process  in  the  one  case  as  in 
the  other.  We  see  the  phenomena,  but  not  the 
working  of  the  mechanism  by  which  the  results 
are  attained.     If,  in  Mr.  Grove's  experiment,  the 

1  Correlation  and  Conservation  of  Forces,  by  E.  L.  Youmans, 
M.  D.,  p.  117. 


153  nsioxs. 

initial  force  had  been  electricity  in  the  wires,  or 
heat  in  the  helix,  instead  of  light  on  the  plate, 
the  result  —  motion  of  the  needles  —  \rould  hare 
been  the  same.  In  the  me<dianisni  of  vision,  if, 
by  some  abnormal  condition  of  the  cerebral  struc- 
tnnes  or  circalation,  or  by  some  action  on  the  deli- 
cate elements  of  the  brain  oi  tiie  modifving  infla- 
enees^ost  described,  or  by  some  subtle  change  in 
oxygenati<m,  the  initial  fotce,  instead  of  being  the 
ordinary  one  of  light  impinging  on  tbe  retina, 
should  be  one  producing  a  visual  group  in  the 
tnbercnla  quadrigemina  or  angular  gyri,  tiie  result 
ci  ideation  in  the  frontal  lobes  would  be  the  same. 
Ilie  ego  wocdd  not  be  cognizant  of  the  initial 
point. 

" Tims,  thai,  the  dependence  : :  ^ ^—  r  =  power  and  of 
maital  activity^  upcm  the  {Avsici.'  .s  kept  up  br 

the  ciiciilatiim  of  oxygenate".  -in, 

can  be  shown  esp^imentalj  aid 

immediate,  as  is  the  d^endr  -ity 

of  ag^dranic  hatteiy  iqpoB  tl  -^r 

plaee  b^weoi  its  metals  an 
if  we  say  diat  dectricity  is 

diange  in  the  one  case,  he-       _    ^  :r:  -^  - 

though  as  the  ejpres$i»m  of  chaaaical  change  in  the 
other  ?  This  view  is  not  hne  advanced  as  aqplaimimg 
anj  mental  phenomenon.  No  {Aysidst  would  say  that 
he  can  '  explain  '  how  it  is  that  dectricity  b  generated 
by  chemical  change;  bat  he  knows  that  soch  a  rdiation 
of  cause  and  e^ct  exists  between  the  two  ordos  of 
fdienomena,  that  evexy  diemical  change  is  accompanied 
hj  a  distiuhanoe  at  electricity;  and  thus,  whraiever  he 


VISIONS.  159 

witnesses  electric  disturbance,  he  is  led  to  look  for  some 
chemical  change  as  its  physical  cause.  And  in  precisely 
tlie  same  sense,  and  no  other,  the  physiologist  must  re- 
gard some  cliange  in  the  substance  of  the  brain  as  tlie 
immediate  physical  antecedent  of  all  automatic  mental 
action.  It  is  the  attribute  of  the  Will  to  utilize  this 
automatic  power  of  the  brain,  as  it  utilizes  that  of  the 
muscles ;  and  thus  tcT  make  the  ego,  in  proportion  as  he 
has  acquired  the  mastei'y  over  it,  a  free  agent."  ^ 

Inasmuch  as  the  greater  inckides  the  less,  it 
follows  that  what  Dr.  Carpenter,  in  the  above 
extract,  has  asserted  of  the  whole  brain  must  be 
equally  true  of  the  visual  centres,  which  are  com- 
ponent parts  of  it.  And  this  is  in  accordance 
with  the  whole  doctrine  of  the  preceding  pages. 

Besides  supplying  material  for  constructive 
metamorphosis,  and  oxj'gen  to  enable  metamor- 
phosis to  go  on,  the  blood  performs  the  third 
office  of  removinof  from  the  cerebral  sranglia  the 
"waste  products  of  their  labor.  It  keeps  the  visual 
workshops  of  the  retina,  the  tubercula  quadrigem- 
ina,  angular  gyri,  and  frontal  lobes,  as  well  as 
all  other  cerebral  laboratories,  clean,  so  that  they 
are  always  in  good  working  order.  The  refuse  is 
the  result  of  the  transformation  of  cell-contents, 
granules,  protoplasmic  stuff,  and  whatever  other 
elements  enter  into  the  formation  of  visual  cell- 
groups,  and  are  necessary  to  the  generation  of 
force,  utilized  in  the  transmission  of  visual  re- 
ports to  all  pai'ts  of  the  nervous  system  with  which 
1  Mental  Physiology,  by  W.  B.  Carpenter,  p.  40. 


160  VISIONS. 

vision  is  associated.  This  waste  is  represented 
by  various  oxy-corapounds  of  carbon,  hydrogen, 
phosphorus,  and  the  like,  which  replace  in  the 
veins  returning  from  the  brain  free  oxygen,  carried 
thither  by  the  arteries.  The  effect  on  the  brain  of 
the  retention  of  these  waste  products  by  the  cere- 
bral circulation  is  well  shown  in  certain  forms 
of  disease  producing  mental  torpor,  insensibility, 
and,  in  extreme  cases,  death  by  asphyxia.  It  is 
possible,  —  and  perhaps  clinical  observation  would 
warrant  the  statement  without  reservation,  —  that 
what  thus  occurs  as  a  general  affection  of  the 
whole  brain,  may,  under  favorable  conditions,  oc- 
cur as  a  local  affection  of  a  limited  portion  of 
the  cerebral  mass,  like  one  of  the  sensory  or  idea- 
tional centres.  Local  cerebral  affections,  th©  re- 
sult of  local  cerebral  causes,  are  of  not  infrequent 
occurrence.  A  tumor  pressing  on  the  tubercula 
quadrigemina  will  cause  blindness.  Inflammation, 
limited  to  the  same  territory,  may  lead  to  the 
same  result,  without  deranging  the  mental  faculties, 
or  the  functions  of  the  sensory  ganglia.  A  poison 
in  the  blood,  resulting  from  the  retention  of  waste 
products,  may  spend  its  morbid  force  chiefly  upon 
one  of  the  encephalic  organs.  Excessive  use  of  one 
or  more  of  the  visual  workshops,  by  which  their 
working  capital  is  consumed  more  rapidly  than  it 
is  supplied,  and  more  rapidly  than  the  waste  is 
removed,  may  gradually  lead  to  deterioration  of 
their  power ;  or  may  induce  conditions  which  will 
enable  them  to  fabricate  and  transmit  false  visual 


VISIONS.  161 

reports.     This  point  will  be  more  fully  discussed 
in  another  place. 

Attention  has  already  been  called  to  the  ana- 
tomical fact  that  the  brain  is  not,  as  it  was  for- 
merly supposed  to  be,  a  single  organ,  but  on  the 
contrary  a  congeries  of  organs.  "  The  encephalon," 
says  Charcot,  "  does  not  represent  one  homoge- 
neous organ,  but  rather  an  association  or,  if  you 
prefer  the  term,  a  federation,  composed  of  a  cer- 
tain number  of  diverse  organs.  To  each  of  these 
organs  there  are  physiologically  attached  certain 
characteristics,  functions,  and  distinct  faculties. 
Now  the  physiological  characteristics  of  each  of 
these  parts  being  known,  it  would  be  possible  to 
deduce  from  them  the  conditions  of  their  patho- 
logical state,  the  latter  being  only  a  modification, 
more  or  less  pronounced,  of  their  normal  state, 
without  the  intervention  of  new  laws."^  Such  be- 
ing the  architecture  of  the  brain,  it  is  easy  to  un- 
derstand that  the  circulation  of  blood  through  it, 
and  especially  through  its  capillaries,  would  natu- 
rally be  proportioned,  as  it  is  in  other  parts  of  the 
body,  to  the  size  and  functional  importance  of  the 
organs  to  which  it  is  distributed.  In  fact  the 
brain  is  not  only  furnished,  as  we  have  seen,  with 
a  larger  proportional  amount  of  blood  than  any 
other  part  of  the  body,  but  its  different  organs 
receive  different  proportional  amounts.  The  dis- 
tribution is  unequal.     The  gray  cerebral  matter 

*  Legons  sur  les  Localisations  dans   les  Maladies  du  Cerveau. 
par  J.  M.  Charcot,  Professeur,  etc.,  p.  3.    Paris,  1876. 
11 


162  VISIONS. 

is  richer  in  blood  than  the  white  ;  the  ganglionic 
nerve  centres  are  richer  than  the  commissures. 
Moreover,  the  natural  inequality  of  distribution  is 
increased  by  exercise.  Just  as  the  exercise  of  a 
particular  muscle,  or  set  of  muscles,  attracts  more 
blood  to  them  than  circulates  through  the  rest  of 
the  muscular  system,  so  mental  exercise  causes 
more  blood  to  flow  through  the  cerebral  organs 
exercised,  than  through  other  parts  of  the  brain. 
And  as  the  continued  use  of  a  set  of  muscles  for 
months  and  years,  within  due  physiological  limits, 
hypertrophies  and  strengthens  them  by  increasing 
their  vascularity  and  nutrition,  so  the  continued 
physiological  use  of  one  or  more  intra-cranial  or- 
gans develops  them,  by  endowing  them  with  a 
larger  number,  or  greater  size,  or  better  quality  of 
elements  composing  them.  The  biceps  of  a  car- 
penter, blacksmith,  or  athlete,  at  the  end  of  ten 
or  twenty  years  of  bicipital  exercise  is  a  different, 
stronger,  and  more  obedient  muscle  than  it  was 
before  its  training  began,  or  than  the  biceps  of  a 
student  or  clerk  is  apt  to  be  ;  in  like  manner,  the 
angular  gyri  and  ideational  cells  of  one  trained  to 
visual  effort,  are  different  organs,  because  more 
developed  and  of  a  higher  power,  than  are  the 
visual  ganglia  of  artisans  and  farmers.  The  visual 
apparatus  of  an  expert  microscopist  will  discern, 
through  an  objective  of  a  ^5  or  -^^  power,  symmet- 
rical forms  and  harmonious  movements,  where 
an  unskilled  observer's  eye  will  see  only  an  un- 
meaning or  chaotic  mass.      A   person    who    has 


„tff':^lSltiL- 


VISIONS.  163 

trained  his  visual  ganglia  to  act  under  the  influ- 
ence of  the  subjective  stimuli  of  volition,  associa- 
tion, habit,  expectant  attention,  automatism,  and 
the  like,  will  sometimes  succeed  in  producing  what 
may  be  called  a  local  visual  hy perse  mia,  and  so 
attain  surprising  results  —  results  which  inexpert 
experimenters  cannot  accomplish,  and  which  to 
the  uninitiated  seem  to  partake  of  the  supernat- 
ural. 

In  the  physical,  as  in  the  moral  world,  what- 
ever is  capable  of  good  is  equally  capable  of  evil. 
The  germs  of  blessing  and  cursing  are  wrapped 
up  in  the  same  cell,  and  each  may  be  developed 
after  its  kind.  Strychnia,  which,  appropriately  ad- 
ministered, will  lead  the  nervous  system  to  healthy 
issues  more  kindly  and  rapidly  than  any  other 
drug,  and  without  leaving  a  trace  of  ill  behind, 
possesses  a  deadly  power,  which  makes  its  name  a 
sound  of  terror.  Opium,  one  of  the  great  blessings 
of  the  human  race,  and  one  without  which  medi- 
cal art  would  be  almost  impossible,  —  an  agent  so 
useful  that  its  chief  active  principle  well  deserves 
its  name,  derived  from  that  of  an  ancient  divin- 
ity, —  is  endowed  with  poisonous  properties,  equal 
to  its  sanative  virtues.  It  can  protect,  or  it  can 
cut  life's  silver  cord.  So  in  the  human  system  : 
training  and  exercise  can  render  an  organ,  or  a  set 
of  organs,  equally  capable  of  good  and  evil;  of 
health  and  disease ;  of  honest  and  of  dishonest  work. 
As  a  microscopist  may  train  his  retina  to  photo- 
graph, his  tubercula  quadrigemina  to  classify,  his 


164         .  VISIONS. 

angular  gyri  to  perceive,  and  bis  frontal  lobes  to 
apperceive  an  objective  world,  invisible  to  others  ; 
so  a  visionist  may  train  bis  angular  gyri  and 
frontal  lobes  to  act  independently  of  the  retina 
and  tubercula  quadrigemina,  and  form  visual  cell- 
groups,  which,  composed  of  old  cell-groups  and 
modifications,  will  enable  him  to  perceive  and 
apperceive  a  subjective  woi'ld,  real  to  him  alone. 
Thus  the  visual  apparatus  of  the  human  brain,  a 
mechanism  of  which  the  delicacy  and  power  has 
only  been  imperfectly  portrayed  in  the  foregoing 
pages,  intended  to  report  with  wonderful  accuracy 
and  minuteness  the  external  world  to  the  Ego, 
may  be  trained  to  do  dishonest  work  with  equal 
faithfulness,  so  as  to  turn  objective  into  subjective 
sight,  orthopia  into  pseudopia,  and  to  make  the 
Ego  the  fool  of  the  brain. 

It  appears  from  these  statements  that  blood 
supplies  material,  which  enables  the  cerebral  ma- 
chinery to  act,  or,  to  use  an  expressive  French 
term  for  which  there  is  no  English  equivalent,  — 
to  functionate.  Blood  is  not  the  mechanism,  but 
it  is  the  meclmnism's  working  force.  As  an  en- 
gineer, by  turning  a  stream  of  water  upon  the 
wheel  of  a  mill,  or  a  current  of  steam  upon  the 
piston  of  an  engine,  puts  the  whole  machinery  in 
action,  so  when  light  from  a  visible  object  stimu- 
lates the  visual  ganglia,  and  turns  or  draws  a 
current  of  blood  upon  them,  or,  possibly,  when 
volition,  representing  the  Ego,  or  association,  or 
emotion,  or  some  other   cerebral  force,  performs 


VISIONS.  165 

the  same  office,  the  visual  apparatus  is  set  in 
motion  and  sight  results.  The  relation,  tlien,  of 
blood  to  brain,  and  of  course  to  each  organ  which 
goes  to  make  up  the  brain,  is  that  of  force  to 
mechanism  ;  and  if  the  force,  however  initiated,  is 
properly  applied,  the  mechanism  will  functionate. 
Blood  flowing  through  a  set  of  ganglia,  however, 
like  those  of  the  visual  apparatus,  is  more  than 
the  force  of  water  turning  a  mill-wheel,  or  than 
that  of  steam  moving  a  piston :  it  not  only  moves 
the  machinery,  but  it  keeps  the  machinery  in 
repair.  Nutrition  is  therefore  included  in  the  re- 
lations of  blood  and  brain,  and  is  so  intimately  as- 
sociated with  the  circulation,  that  the  former  can- 
not be  disconnected  from  the  latter.  Such  beino^ 
the  case,  it  is  unnecessary  to  refer  to  the  influence 
of  nutrition  upon  the  process  or  mechanism  of 
vision.  Its  influence  has  already  been  sufficiently 
described,  in  describing  that  of  the  blood. 

The  authority  of  Charcot,  a  neuro-physiologist, 
whose  statements  few  will  be  inclined  to  question, 
may  be  invoked  in  support  of  this  view  of  the 
dominant  importance  of  the  cerebral  circulation 
over  other  intra-cranial  factors.     He  says  :  — 

"  The  encephalon  is  placed,  if  I  may  use  the  expres- 
sion, under  a  pathological  regime,  unlike  that  of  other 
portions  of  the  neural  axis.  In  fact,  the  general  state- 
ment may  be  made  that  in  the  encephalon,  and  espe- 
cially in  the  brain,  the  vascular  system  (arteries,  veins, 
capillaries)  controls  the  situation."  ^ 

1  Legons,  etc.,  par  J.  M.  Charcot,  p.  46. 


166  VISIONS 

The  action  of  drugs  on  the  nei've-centres  of  the 
human  system,  and  particularly  on  the  visual  ap- 
paratus of  that  sj^stem,  forms  one  of  the  most  in- 
teresting chapters  of  physiological  materia  medica. 
Moreover,  there  is  no  department  of  physiological 
or  pathological  research,  in  which  the  scieutifie 
progress  of  the  last  quarter  of  a  century  has  been 
greater  or  more  satisfactory  than  in  this.  Some- 
thing like  accuracy,  or  at  least  something  which 
promises  to  attain  accuracy  in  the  future,  has 
been  readied  in  our  knowledge  of  the  action  of 
certain  drugs  upon  the  nervous  system,  and  of 
the  methods  of  administration  by  which  to  attain 
that  action.  Perhaps,  also,  there  is  nothing  which 
illustrates  more  clearly  and  convincingly  the  me- 
chanical structure  and  working  of  the  entire  nerv- 
ous system,  cerebral  as  well  as  spinal,  than  the 
facility  and  certainty  with  which  it  is  possible,  by 
means  of  these  drugs,  to  play  upon  it.  By  their 
aid  its  power  can  be  increased  or  diminished,  all 
its  functions  modified,  and  indirectly  the  action  of 
the  whole  organization  affected. 

Digitalis  in  appropriate  doses  influences  the  gan- 
glionic nerve-centres  of  the  heart  and  capillaries 
in  such  a  way  as  to  impart  steadiness  and  force 
to  the  muscular  fibres  of  the  former,  and  improved 
elasticity  to  those  of  the  latter  ;  thus  causing  the 
streams  of  the  circulation  to  move  with  an  equable 
and  natural  current,  into  and  out  of  every  organ. 
Calling  this  power  to  his  aid,  a  skilful  practi- 
tioner is  able,  in  certain  forms  of  congestion  of  the 


VISIONS.  167 

brain,  to  relieve  that  organ  from  the  burden  of 
excess  of  blood,  and,  sometimes,  in  the  opposite 
condition  of  anemia,  to  send  thither  a  needed  sup- 
ply. By  this  regulation  of  the  cerebral  circula- 
tion, various  functional  disturbances  of  the  brain, 
ideational  as  well  as  sensory,  like  delirium,  pseud- 
opia,  tinnitus  aurium,  and  the  like,  are  not  in- 
frequently removed.  When  strange  sights  and 
sounds,  accompanying  congestion  or  anaemia  of  the 
brain,  or  of  certain  localities  in  the  brain,  dis- 
appear under  the  influence  of  an  agent  which  re- 
lieves the  pathological  condition,  the  inference  is 
a  fair  one,  to  say  the  least,  that  the  ideational 
or  sensory  derangement  is  produced  by  that  condi- 
tion. 

Quinine,  if  the  dose  is  large  enough,  acts  on 
the  auditory  nerve  centres,  producing  tinnitus 
aurium,  —  subjective  sounds  of  an  irregular  and 
indefinite  character,  it  is  true,  but  still  sounds. 
The  music  of  a  church  bell  is  not  more  unmis- 
takably heard  by  those  in  its  neighborhood,  than 
is  the  ringing  of  quinine  by  those  who  have  taken 
a  ringing  dose  of  the  drug.  The  subjective 
sound  is  the  result  of  quinine,  acting  in  some 
unknown  way  upon  the  circulation  of  the  cerebral 
auditory  centres. 

Frequent  reference  has  been  made  in  the  course 
of  this  essay  to  the  reflex  action  of  the  nervous 
system,  as  being  one  of  its  most  important  fea- 
tures, —  perhaps  the  most  important,  as  well  as 
the  most  curious  and  ingenious  feature  of  that 


168  VISIONS. 

system.  It  lius  been  shown  that  all  parts  of  the 
nervous  apparatus  are  endowed  with  a  power, 
commonly  called  reflex,  but  which  physiologists 
have  also  designated  as  excito-motory,  affero-effe- 
rent,  centripeto-centrifugal,  and  the  like ;  hoping 
thereby  to  describe  with  precision  the  responsive 
character  of  the  ganglia,  distributed  throughout 
the  organization,  and  presiding  alike  over  its  sim- 
ple and  its  complex  functions.  There  are  drugs, 
unlike  in  their  physiological  action  those  just 
mentioned,  which  exert  a  remarkable  influence 
over  reflex  action,  and  which  enable  a  physiolog- 
ical engineer  to  call  it  forth,  or  to  repress  it,  al- 
most as  readily  and  freely  as  the  engineer  of  a 
locomotive,  by  the  pressure  of  his  thumb  on  a 
valve,  can  increase  or  diminish  the  force  of  steam 
in  his  engine.  This  action  of  drugs  illustrates 
the  mechanical  nature  of  the  nervous  system,  not 
less  clearly  than  the  pressure  of  an  engineer's 
thumb  does  that  of  his  engine.  It  is  worthy  of 
note,  however,  that  the  ego  of  the  human  system, 
whose  volition  enables  the  prescribed  drug  to  be 
taken,  is  no  more  to  be  confounded  with  his  en- 
gine, than  the  engineer,  the  pressure  of  whose 
thumb  lets  on  the  force  of  steam,  is  to  be  con- 
founded with  his. 

By  means  of  strychnia  the  reflex  action  of  the 
nervous  system,  and  especially  of  the  spinal  nerve 
centres,  may  be  augmented  indefinitely.  They 
can  be  rendered  so  sensitive  by  it,  that  thej  will 
respond  by  convulsive  muscular  twitchings  to  the 


VISIONS.  169 

slightest  contact  of  a  single  hair,  to  the  touch  of 
a  feather,  or  to  the  wave  of  a  breath  of  air ;  and 
the  convulsive  action  may  be  increased,  by  in- 
crease of  dose,  till  rapid  death  follows.  The 
ideational  centres  of  the  frontal  lobes,  and  the 
cerebral  sensory  centres  of  sight  and  hearing,  are 
less  amenable  to  the  influence  of  strychnia  than 
the  spinal  cord  and  lower  nerve  centres :  an  indi- 
cation or  hint  that  the  higher  functions  require 
for  their  performance  less  reflex  or  automatic 
power  than  the  lower.  How  it  is  that  strychnia 
accomplishes  the  result  of  increasing  reflex  sensi- 
bility is  still  an  unsolved  problem.  Possibly,  as 
some  suppose,  by  a  process  of  oxygenation  in  the 
nerve  centres  themselves ;  or  perhaps,  as  an  in- 
genious experiment  of  Brown-Sequard  implies,  by 
the  local  irritation  of  direct  contact  with  nerve 
tissue.^ 

The  bromide  of  potassium,  bromide  of  sodium, 
bromide  of  ammonium,  bromide  of  lithium,  and 
their  congeners,  exert  upon  reflex  action  an  influ- 
ence, the  opposite  of  that  induced  by  strychnia. 
They  repress  it,  and  in  suSiciently  large  doses 
nearly,  if  not  quite  abolish  it.  Their  repressive 
action,  however,  is  by  no  means  limited  to  the 
spinal  cord,  but  extends  up  to  the   sensory  and 

^  Professor  Brown-Sequai'd,  as  he  himself  informed  the  author, 
succeeded  iu  lajring  bare  a  section  of  a  frog's  nerve  without  de- 
stroying its  central  or  peripheral  connections,  depriving  it  com- 
pletely of  blood,  and  preventing  the  access  of  blood  to  it.  He 
then  applied  stryclinia  to  it  with  the  result  of  producing  twitch- 
ing in  the  muscles  innervated  by  it. 


170  VISIONS. 

ideational  centres.  It  is  possible  by  an  appro- 
priate administration  of  these  agents  to  dull,  with- 
out destroying,  the  general  reflex  sensibility  of 
the  nervous  system,  and  to  act  on  the  cerebrum  in 
such  a  way  as  to  produce  a  degree  of  hebetude 
simulating  imbecility.  Ideation  is  not  abolished, 
but  rendered  sluggish.  The  visual  and  auditory 
centres  perceive  sights  and  sounds,  and  report 
them  to  the  frontal  lobes,  where  they  are  received 
with  indifference..  Apperception  is  more  dulled 
than  perception.  It  is  a  curious  and  interesting 
fact  that  a  bromized  individual,  in  spite  of  the  in- 
hibitory influence  to  which  he  is  subjected,  can, 
by  a  strong  volitional  effort,  arouse  his  sleepy 
attention  and  blunted  faculties,  and  compel  them 
to  work  effectively,  showing,  that  manifestation 
of  power,  not  power  itself,  is  interfered  with  by 
the  bromides.  Another  phenomenon  following 
the  administration  of  bromidal  preparations  is 
sleep.  This  occurs  so  constantly,  that  they  are 
now  very  generally  employed  for  the  relief  of  cer- 
tain forms  of  insomnia.  Physiologists  have  shown 
that  bromides,  by  means  of  the  vaso-motor  nerves, 
produce  contraction  of  the  capillaries,  and  espe- 
cially of  those  of  the  brain.  The  quantity  and 
mode  of  administration,  necessary  to  produce  this 
effect,  are  the  quantity  and  mode  of  administra- 
tion necessary  to  produce  the  phenomena  above 
described  ;  indicating  clearly  that  the  mental  heb- 
etude, sluggish  movement,  and  somnolent  con- 
dition, are  the  results  of  diminished  circulation  of 


VISIONS.  171 

blood  through  the  capillaries  of  the  nerve  centres  ; 
an  additional  proof  of  the  dependence  of  cerebral 
phenomena  upon  the  circulation  through  the  cere- 
bral structures. 

The  drugs,  hitherto  considered,  illustrate  the 
mechanical  machinery  of  the  nervous  system  as  a 
whole.  It  is  possible  to  pursue  the  illustration 
still  further,  and  to  show  that  by  means  of  drugs 
one  portion  of  the  nervous  system  can  be  called 
into  activity,  and  another  portion,  intimately  as- 
sociated with  the  one  affected  and  apparently  a 
component  part  of  it,  be  left  quiescent.  Many, 
perhaps  all  the  centres  of  motion  and  sensation 
are  constructed  so  that  they  seem  to  be  a  unit. 
The  sensation  of  pain,  for  example,  following  a 
wound  upon  the  finger,  is  carried  along  a  sensory 
nerve  to  a  nervous  centre,  where  the  sensation  is 
translated,  as  we  have  previously  seen,  into  mo- 
tion, and  reflected  along  a  motor  nerve  to  a  set  of 
muscles,  by  which  the  finger  is  removed  from  the 
place  of  danger.  Commonly  when  a  sensori-motor 
centre  is  paralyzed,  or  destroyed  by  disease  or 
other  cause,  both  motion  and  sensation  are  taken 
away.  An  individual  so  affected  can  neither  feel 
the  injury,  nor  move  the  injured  part  ;  he  does 
not  know  that  his  finger  is  wounded,  nor  possess 
the  power  of  escape.  Sensation  and  motion,  which 
the  mind  easily  recognizes  as  distinct  from  each 
other,  and  which  consciousness  perceives  and  acts 
upon  as  separate  and  dissimilar  factors,  have  their 
distinct  organic  representatives  in  the  cell  struc- 


172  VISIONS. 

tures  of  the  nerve  centres ;  and  yet  it  is  impossible 
to  distinguish  and  isolate  by  chemical  analysis, 
anatomical  dissection,  or  microscopical  exploration, 
a  cell  which  recognizes  sensation,  from  one  which 
determines  motion.  This  difference,  which  the 
mind  perceives,  but  of  which  our  gross  means  of 
investigation  cannot  discover  the  mechanism  and 
into  which  no  scalpel,  laboratory,  or  lens  has 
hitherto  penetrated,  drugs  have  made  clear.  The 
physostigma  venenosum,  a  kidney -shaped  bean 
from  Calabar  in  Africa,  which  the  natives  of  that 
region  have  long  employed  as  an  ordeal  test  for 
criminals,  possesses  the  property  of  diminishing, 
and  in  sufficient  doses  of  annihilating  all  reflex 
power,  so  that  complete  muscular  flaccidity  fol- 
lows its  administration.  At  the  same  time  sensi- 
bility persists,  as  long  as  it  is  possible  to  obtain 
any  evidence  of  it.  Motion  is  taken  away,  but 
sensation  remains.  The  pain  of  heat  and  cold 
and  injury  is  still  reported  to  the  ganglionic  nerve 
centres,  but  their  ability  to  remove  the  body  from 
the  offending  spot,  or  to  expel  the  offending  cause, 
no  longer  exists.  The  drug  acts  on  the  nerve 
cells  of  motion,  and  leaves  those  of  sensation 
unaffected.  The  central  translation  of  sensation 
into  motion  is  abolished  —  that  link  in  the  mech- 
anism is  broken,  —  a  demonstration,  tliat  the  dif- 
ference between  sensation  and  motion,  which  the 
mind  accepts,  is  organically  represented  in  the 
nervous  apparatus.  In  the  age  of  martyrdom, 
martyrs  were  fastened  to  the  stake  beyond  escape, 


VISIONS.  173 

and  so  compelled  to  suffer  the  utmost  torture  of 
the  flames.  What  the  church  and  the  law  in- 
flicted as  a  punishment  for  heresy  and  crime,  by- 
means  of  cords  and  chains  which  compelled  muscu- 
lar inactivity,  modern  physiology  has  accomplished 
by  a  harmless  looking  alkaloid.  How  the  old  tor- 
turers would  have  rejoiced  in  the  possession  of  an 
article,  the  administration  of  which  would  have 
enabled  them  to  tie  their  victim  to  the  fire  by  an 
invisible  force,  capable  of  preventing  all  escape 
and  pveserving  all  the  agony  ;  and  so  to  roast  him 
alive,  enforcing,  with  fiendish  ingenuity,  a  night- 
mare of  awful  suffering  and  impossible  escape  ! 

In  addition  to  the  drugs  just  cited  as  agents, 
capable,  by  their  physiological  action,  of  illustrat- 
ing the  division  of  the  nervous  system  into  various 
and  distinct  faculties,  and  which  exhibit  this  di- 
vision, chiefly  by  their  influence  over  its  reflex 
mechanism  and  spinal  centres,  there  are  others 
which  bring  the  same  fact  into  clear  light  by  their 
action  on  the  higher  sensory  ganglia,  and  their 
influence  over  the  cerebral  functions  of  emotion, 
ideation,  and  volition.  The  principal  medicinal 
agents  of  this  class  are  opium,  Indian  hemp, 
alcohol,  ether,  chloroform,  and  belladonna  with 
its  congeners.  These  are  among  the  most  im- 
portant articles  of  the  materia  medica.  They 
derive  their  therapeutic  position,  to  a  large  ex- 
tent, from  their  power  to  select  for  their  action 
certain  important  parts  of  the  nervous  system  in 
preference  to  others,  and  to  act  efficiently  upon 


174  VISIONS. 

the  selected  portions.  A  brief  allusioti  to  their 
physiological  behavior  in  this  respect  will  be  suffi- 
cient for  the  object  before  us. 

Opium  is  so  generally  known  as  an  anodyne, 
soporific,  and  poison,  that  its  power  to  stimulate 
tlie  frontal  half  of  the  brain  is  often  overlooked  or 
depreciated  ;  and  yet  its  action,  in  this  respect,  is 
not  less  important  than  its  power  over  other  por- 
tions of  the  nervous  system.  A  great  variety  of 
symptoms,  many  of  them  apparently  conflicting 
with  each  other,  have  been  reported  by  different 
physiologists,  as  the  result  of  its  administration  to 
men  and  animals.  Without  undertaking  to  rec- 
oncile these  differences,  an  effort  foreign  to  our 
present  purpose,  it  may  be  safely  asserted,  as  Dr. 
H.  C.  Wood,  Jr.,  has  shown,  that  after  a  careful 
survey  of  the  symptoms,  two  classes  of  phenom- 
ena, one  spinal,  the  other  cerebral,  stand  out  prom- 
inently, as  the  physiological  result  of  opium.  To 
this  should  be  added  the  statement  that  in  as- 
cending the  scale  of  being  from  the  lowest  to  the 
highest  forms  of  animal  life,  the  spinal  phenomena 
predominate  in  the  lowest,  and  the  cerebral  in 
the  highest.  The  brain  of  man  is  more  actively 
and  peculiarly  affected  by  opium,  than  that  of  the 
lower  animals  ;  and  of  his  brain,  the  higher  and 
most  complex  ganglia  ai'e  more  susceptible  to  its 
action  than  the  lower  and  less  complex.  This 
varying  action  of  opium  on  different  individuals, 
and  on  different  parts  of  the  brain  in  the  same  in- 
dividual, is  of  course  less  evident  in  lethal  than 


VISIONS.  175 

in  non-lethal  closes.  De  Quincey's  desci-iption  of 
the  pains  and  pleasures  of  opium,  which  must  be 
taken  cum  grano  salis,  for  it  has  the  flavor  of  an 
opium-eater's  imagination,  is  correct,  in  so  far  as 
it  paints  the  influence  of  the  article  on  the  emo- 
tions, the  imagination,  the  intellect,  and  the  will. 
His  personal  experience  was  a  vivid  illustration 
of  the  elective  action  of  opium  on  the  intra-cranial 
apparatus. 

A  stimulus  or  irritant,  applied  to  a  nerve,  will 
call  into  greater  or  less  activity  the  special  func- 
tion of  the  ganglionic  nerve  centre  with  which 
that  nerve  is  connected,  and  of  the  force  of  which 
it  is  a  conductor ;  and  it  will  not  develop  any 
other  sensation  or  force,  than  that  which  is  the 
special  property  of  the  part  stimulated.  Irrita- 
tion of  a  nerve  of  sensation  causes  pain,  and  ex- 
cept by  a  reflex  act,  does  not  cause  motion.  Irri- 
tation of  a  motor  nerve  will  cause  motion,  not 
pain.  Irritation  of  the  auditory  nerve  gives  rise 
to  sound,  and  not  to  pain  or  motion.  Cutting  or 
pinching  the  optic  nerve  produces  a  flash  of  light, 
and  not  pain,  movement,  or  sound.  Irritation  of 
the  salivary  nerves  excites  a  flow  of  saliva,  with- 
out exciting  pain,  motion,  light,  or  sound.  The 
same  law  pervades  the  whole  nervous  system. 
Each  organic  centre  can  be  stimulated  to  do  its 
own  work,  but  not  that  of  its  neighbors  or  con- 
nections ;  and  each  will  act  normally  only  under 
its  own  appropriate  stimulus.  The  auditory  gan- 
glia respond  to  waves  of  sound,  not  to  those  of 


176  VISIONS. 

light ;  the  optic  ganglia  to  waves  of  light,  not  to 
those  of  sound.  The  converse  of  this  is  equally 
true.  When  a  stimulus  succeeds  in  arousing  an 
organ  into  activity,  the  action  produced  is  that 
organ's  function.  If  opium,  by  stimulating  the 
frontal  lobes,  produces  ideation,  it  is  because  idea- 
tion is  the  function  of  those  lobes.  Hence  the 
value  of  the  following  graphic  account,  by  De 
Quincey,  of  the  movement  of  his  brain  under 
opium.  It  also  illustrates  the  power  which  the 
brain  possesses,  and  which  has  previously  been 
dwelt  upon,  of  reviving  past  impressions. 

"  The  minutest  incidents  of  childhood,"  says  the  bril- 
liant essayist,  "  or  forgotten  scenes  of  later  years,  were 
often  revived.  I  could  not  be  said  to  recollect  them ; 
for  if  I  had  been  told  of  them  when  waking,  I  should 
not  have  been  able  to  acknowledge  them  as  parts  of  my 
past  experience.  But  placed  as  they  were  before  me, 
in  dreams  like  intuitions,  and  clothed  in  all  their  evan- 
escent circumstances  and  accompanying  feelings,  I  recog- 
nized them  instantaneously.  I  was  once  told  by  a  near 
relative  of  mine,  that  having  in  her  childhood  fallen  into 
a  river,  and  being  on  the  very  verge  of  death,  but  for 
the  critical  assistance  which  reached  her,  she  saw  in  a 
moment  her  whole  life,  in  its  minutest  incidents,  arrayed 
before  her  simultaneously  as  in  a  mirror;  and  she  had 
a  faculty  developed  as  suddenly  for  comprehending  the 
whole  and  every  part.  This,  from  some  opium  experi- 
ences of  mine,  I  can  believe ;  I  have,  indeed,  seen  the 
same  thing  asserted  twice  in  modern  books,  and  accom- 
panied by  a  remark  which  I  am  convinced  is  true, 
namely,  that  the  dread  book  of  account,  which  the  Scrip- 


VISIONS.  177 

tures  speak  of,  is,  in  fact,  the  mind  itself  of  each  individ- 
ual. Of  this,  at  least,  I  feel  assured,  that  there  is  no 
such  thing  as  forgetting  possible  to  the  mind ;  a  thou- 
sand accidents  may  and  will  interpose  a  veil  between 
our  present  consciousness  and  the  secret  inscriptions  on 
the  mind.  Accidents  of  the  same  sort  will  also  rend 
away  this  veil;  but  alike,  whether  veiled  or  unveiled, 
the  inscription  remains  forever;  just  as  the  stars  seem 
to  withdraw  before  the  common  light  of  day,  whereas^ 
in  fact,  we  all  know  that  it  is  the  light  which  is  drawn 
over  them  as  a  veil;  and  that  they  are  waiting  to  be 
revealed,  when  the  obscuring  daylight  shall  have  with- 
drawn." ^ 

This,  so  far  as  a  single  case  can  be  of  value,  is 
a  psychological  confirmation  of  the  physiological 
inference  from  the  experiments  of  Ferrier  and 
others,  that  the  frontal  lobes  of  the  brain  contain 
a  large  portion,  if  not  all,  of  the  mechanism  of 
ideation  and  volition.  Stimulated  by  opium,  De 
Quincey's  brain  not  only  reproduced  cell-group- 
ings, which  were  organic  foundations  of  ideal  pic- 
tures —  memories  —  of  long  past  scenes,  but  also 
effected  organic  modifications,  which  enabled  him 
to  reason  about  them.  He  saw  the  past;  satisfied 
himself  that  it  was  his  past,  and  drew  therefrom 
certain  corollaries  as  to  the  working  of  his  own 
brain.  It  does  not  appear  that  he  saw,  even  in 
his  opiated  dreams,  sensory  pictures,  but  only 
ideational  ones.     The  mechanical  explanation  of 

1  Confessions  of  an  EiigJish  Opium-Eater,  by  Thomas  De  Quin- 
cey,  Am.  ed.,  8vo,  1869,  pp.  110,  111. 
12 


178  VISIONS. 

his  psychological  experience  in  this  respect  is  this. 
In  childhood,  vivid  sensory  pictures  were  painted 
on  the  visual  centres  of  his  brain.  These  were 
telegraphed  to  the  ideational  visual  centres  of  his 
frontal  lobes,  where  correspondingly  vivid  idea- 
tional pictures  were  produced.  -In  adult  life,  these 
lobes,  excited  by  opium  carried  thither  by  the 
blood,  reproduced  the  visual  cell-groupings  of  his 
childhood,  and  the  emotions  and  ideas  correspond- 
ing to  them.  The  angular  gyri  were  less  affected 
than  the  visual  centres  higher  up.  This  is,  in 
fact,  what  would  be  expected  from  the  physiolog- 
ical action  of  opium,  an  agent  which  produces 
subjective,  rather  than  objective  visions.  The 
testimony  of  an  acute  observer,  like  De  Quincey, 
to  the  existence  within  his  personal  experience  of 
intra-cranial  pictorial  representations,  is  peculiarly 
valuable,  though  he  did  not  recognize  the  distinc- 
tion between  cerebral  sensory,  and  cerebral  ideal 
pictures  ;  a  distinction  essential  to  a  just  compre- 
hension of  the  phenomena  of  pseudopia. 

Both  Calabar  bean  and  opium  possess  the  power 
of  causing  iridal  contraction ;  and  this  they  do  in 
virtue  of  their  influence  over  the  visual  apparatus, 
independently  of  their  action  on  the  cerebral  tis- 
sues in  general.  This  power  is  another  instance 
of  the  elective  afiinity  of  these  agents  for  certain 
ganglionic  nerve  centres  in  preference  to  others, 
and  lends  additional  confirmation  to  the  doctrine, 
that  the  process  of  vision  is  not  confided  to  the 
eye  alone,  but  to  a  complex  apparatus  extending 


VISIONS.  179 

well  ijito  the  brain.  It  is  a  curious  and  sugges- 
tive circumstance,  to  say  the  least,  that  an  article, 
like  opium,  capable  of  exciting  the  cerebral  hemi- 
spheres to  the  production  of  ideational  pictures, 
should  also  be  able  to  excite  to  contraction  that 
part  of  the  visual  mechanism,  which  serves  as  the 
original  gateway  for  the  entrance  into  the  brain  of 
photographic  pictures  of  the  outer  world.  Doubt- 
less, by  and  by,  something  more  than  coincidence 
or  simultaneousness  of  action  will  be  discerned 
between  these  two  phenomena. 

Cannabis  Indica,  called  haschisch  in  its  native 
country,  Indian  hemp  in  Europe  and  America,  is 
a  worthy  member  of  the  materia  medica,  though 
its  therapeutic  virtues  are  much  less  valuable 
than  those  of  opium.  It  possesses  great  interest, 
however,  for  the  psychological  physiologist,  on 
account  of  its  peculiar  and  extraordinary  power 
over  the  brain  ;  exerting  upon  some  of  the  gan- 
glia a  singular  influence,  and  affecting  them  all 
more  or  less.  It  does  not  lead  the  brain  to  revive 
past  experiences,  so  much  as  to  pervert  and  distort 
existing  ones.  Its  vulgar  East  Indian  appellation 
of  hashisch,  from  which  some  derive  the  English 
term  assassin,  is  said  to  be  indicative  of  its  influ- 
ence over  the  brain  of  those  who  chew  it,  and 
who  often  commit,  under  its  delirium-producing 
action,  all  sorts  of  excesses,  even  the  assassination 
^f  those  they  meet.  It  is  a  moderate  anodyne 
and  soporific,  incapable  of  inducing  either  the 
profound  anaesthesia  or  sleep  characteristic  of  the 


180  VISIONS. 

cerebral  action  of  opium ;  on  the  other  hand,  it 
exerts  over  parts  of  the  brain  a  more  marked  in- 
fluence than  that  drug.  Its  physiological  action  is, 
therefore,  a  forcible  illustration  of  the  functional 
independence  of  those  nerve  centres  upon  which 
its  energy  is  expended.  Every  instance  of  this 
sort  renders  more  probable,  if  it  does  not  demon- 
strate, the  existence  of  distinct  organic  centres  in 
tlie  anterior  lobes  for  the  perception,  analysis,  and 
reproduction  of  impressions  like  ideational  pic- 
tures. 

Ideas  of  time  and  space  have  always  afforded 
to  metaphysicians  a  large  opportunity  for  a  great 
deal  of  subtle  discussion  and  useless  speculation. 
Without  taking  part  in  their  metaphysical  gym- 
nastics, it  may  be  justly  observed  that  it  is  impor- 
tant, both  for  physiologists  and  psychologists,  to 
recognize  the  probable  existence  in  the  brain  of  an 
organ  concerned  with  the  manifestation  of  notions 
of  time  and  space,  and  perhaps  exclusively  devoted 
to  the  apperception  of  such  ideas.  Independent- 
ly, however,  of  all  abstract  and  a  priori  consid- 
erations, the  physiological  fact  appears  —  let  the 
metaphysician  interpret  it  as  he  can,  —  that  can- 
nabis Indica,  taken  in  sufficient  quantity,  possesses 
the  power  of  imparting  to  conceptions  of  time  and 
space  a  singular  degree  of  magnitude  or  extension. 
In  accordance  with  the  physiological  law,  that  a 
ganglionic  nerve  centre  can  only  be  made  to  ex- 
hibit a  power  of  which  the  manifestation  is  con- 
fided to  its  organization,  it  is  fair  to  infer,  tliat  if 


VISIONS.  181 

an  artificial  stimulus  can  be  applied  so  as  to  de- 
velop or  exaggerate  ideas  of  time  and  space,  there 
must  be  an  organic  provision  in  the  brain  for  that 
purpose.  It  is  an  established  physiological  phe- 
nomenon that  cannabis  Indica  is  capable  of  ex- 
citing and  strangely  developing  these  ideas.  De 
Quincey  fancied  that  he  discovered  the  same  vir- 
tues in  opium  from  the  character  of  his  dreams 
after  taking  laudanum.  His  statements  in  this  re- 
spect have  not  been  confirmed  by  other  observers, 
and  are  undoubtedly  fanciful ;  but  even  if  they  are 
not  true  of  the  dreams  of  opium,  they  are  a  graphic 
description  of  the  time-and-space-magnifying  prop- 
erties of  Indian  hemp  ;  a  description,  the  accuracy 
of  which  I  have  repeatedly  been  able  to  verify  by 
the  experience  of  those  who  have  taken  the  drug 
under  my  professional  care.  "  The  sense  of  space," 
says  the  brilliant  Opium -lover,  "  and  in  the  end 
the  sense  of  time,  were  both  powerfully  affected. 
Buildings,  landscapes,  etc.,  were  exhibited  in  pro- 
portions so  vast  as  the  bodily  eye  is  not  fitted 
to  receive.  Space  swelled,  and  was  amplified  to 
an  extent  of  unutterable  infinity.  This,  however, 
did  not  disturb  me  so  much  as  the  vast  expan- 
sion of  time.  I  sometimes  seemed  to  have  lived 
for  seventy  or  one  hundred  years  in  one  night ; 
nay,  sometimes  had  feelings  representative  of  a 
millennium,  passed  in  that  time,  or,  however,  of  a 
duration  far  beyond  the  limits  of  any  human  ex- 
perience." ^  One  of  my  medical  friends  noticed 
^  Confessions,  etc.,  p.  110. 


182  VISIONS. 

a  similar  effect  in  his  own  person  after  taking 
cannabis  Indica.  Ascending  a  flight  of  stairs, 
from  his  sitting-room  to  his  bedchamber,  seemed 
to  occupy  time  enough  for  a  journey  from  Boston 
to  Washington  and  back.  It  required  a  century 
for  the  windhig  up  of  his  watch. 

The  following  case  happily  illustrates  the  power 
of  cannabis  Indica  to  play  with  the  human  brain, 
and  to  act  on  the  visual  apparatus,  as  well  as  on 
the  higher  ideo-motor  centres. 

Three  members  of  the  medical  class  of  Harvard 
University,  after  one  of  my  lectures  on  the  phys- 
iological action  of  cannabis  Indica,  determined  to 
test  the  accuracy  of  the  statements  to  which  they 
had  listened,  by  experiments  with  the  article  upon 
themselves.  They  accordingly  procured  some  of 
it,  and  each  took  a  portion.  After  taking  it  they 
remained  together  about  an  hour.  At  the  end  of 
this  period,  the  whole  party  began  to  feel  "queer," 
and  thought  their  wisest  course  was  to  go,  each  to 
his  own  home.  Before  separating,  they  agreed  to 
meet  each  other  the  next  day  and  report  and 
compare  experiences.  Two  of  the  number  found 
it  necessary  to  exercise  a  moderate  degree  of  self 
control,  in  order  to  get  home  without  exciting  ob- 
servation. On  reaching  home  they  were  garru- 
lous and  uneasy,  had  a  quick  pulse  and  were 
sleepy ;  so  sleepy,  that  they  went  immediately  to 
bed  and  to  sleep^  Their  sleep  Was  sound.  On 
the  next  inorning  they  awoke  in  their  usual  con- 
dition.    Such  was  their  experience. 


VISIONS.  1 83 

The  third  experimenter  did  not  get  off  so  easily 
as  his  companions.  Older  than  most  medical 
students  and  more  fortunate,  he  was  a  married 
man,  and  possessed  a  house  of  his  own.  It  was 
two  miles  or  more  from  the  place  of  parting  with 
his  companions  to  his  home,  and  he  shortened  the 
way  by  getting  into  a  car  or  omnibus.  Soon 
after  taking  his  seat  he  was  strongly  impressed 
with  a  sense  of  his  own  importance,  with  the 
size,  symmetry,  and  beauty  of  his  person,  and 
with  the  comparative  insignificance  of  those  about 
him.  This  impression  became  so  strong  that  he 
felt  compelled  to  speak  of  it.  Accordingly,  call- 
ing the  conductor  to  his  side,  he  expatiated  upon 
his  personal  attractions,  and  especially  dwelt  upon 
the  size  and  shape  of  his  arms  and  thighs,  and 
did  not  fail  to  comment  upon  the  excellence  of 
his  general  make-up.  He  likewise  remarked  upon 
the  lilliputian  aspect  of  his  fellow  passengers. 
He,  himself,  was  not  an  Apollo.  The  conduc- 
tor attempted  no  reply  to  these  criticisms.  Pres- 
ently the  student,  who  may  be  called  Mr.  K., 
again  addressed  the  conductor,  and  rehearsing 
the  matter  in  a  loud  tone,  advised  him  to  put 
the  passengers  out  of  the  carriage,  as  persons 
unfit  to  ride  there;  and  as  especially  unfit  to  be 
in  the  neighborhood  of  so  august  a  personage  as 
Mr.  K.  By  this  time  he  was  near  his  residence. 
The  car  stopped.  The  conductor,  charitably  sup- 
posing liquor  had  provoked  such  odd  behavior, 
kindly  offered  to  assist  Mr.  K.  to  the  sidewalk. 


184  VISIONS. 

All  offers  of  aid  were  refused  with  imperial  dig- 
nity and  decision.  He  soon  reached  home.  The 
ideas  of  grandeur  and  importance  with  which  his 
own  person  had  inspired  him,  attached  themselves 
to  his  house;  he  stopped  before  entering,  to  ad- 
mire the  magnificence  of  its  portal  and  its  palatial 
facade.  He  entered.  The  hall  was  imposing ; 
the  stairway  grand.  His  library  equalled  the 
Bodleian.  His  wife  was  a  princess  ;  and  so  on 
through  all  his  belongings.  Suddenly  the  scene 
changed.  He  acquired  double  consciousness,  and 
became  two  persons,  —  two  distinct  individuali- 
ties. One  was  a  notable  physician,  the  other  an 
indigent  patient.  He  proceeded,  in  the  character 
of  a  physician,  to  examine  himself  in  the  charac- 
ter of  a  patient.  Consciousness  No.  1  discovered 
a  serious  affection  in  the  body  of  consciousness 
No.  2.  No.  1  went  into  his  office  and  obtained 
some  surgical  instruments,  with  which  he  under- 
took to  operate  on  No.  2 ;  having  stretched  the 
latter  for  the  purpose  on  a  sofa.  These  singular 
doings  alarmed  Mrs.  K.,  who,  fearing  for  her  hus- 
band's sanity,  sent  for  a  physician.  In  the  mean 
time,  consciousness  No.  1  had  dismissed  con- 
sciousness No.  2,  and  recognized  instead  a  crim- 
inal, who  on  account  of  some  misdemeanor  in  pri- 
son had  been  condemned  to  the  punishment  of  a 
shower  bath.  Obedient  to  this  notion,  conscious- 
ness No.  1  administered  a  shower  bath  to  con- 
sciousness No.  2.  The  physician  who  had  been 
summoned  by  Mrs.  K.  arrived  in  the  midst  of  the 


VISIONS.  185 

bath.  The  result  of  his  investigation  was  the  con- 
dusion,  not  an  unnatural  one  under  the  circum- 
stances, that  Mr.  K.  was  drunk.  By  this  time 
the  soporific  influence  of  the  drug  began  to  assert 
itself,  so  that  only"" a  little  urgency  was  necessary 
in  order  to  induce  Mr.  K.  to  go  to  bed.  A  sleep 
of  about  twelve  hours  put  an  end  to  further  ex- 
travagances. 

On  the  next  day  Mr.  K.  retained  a  vivid  recol- 
lection of  the  various  phases  through  which  he 
had  passed.  He  remembered  distinctly  the  con- 
viction he  entertained,  while  under  the  power  of 
cannabis  Indica,  of  the  reality  of  each  scene  he 
witnessed,  and  of  the  part  he  played  in  it.  The 
fact  of  double  consciousness  stood  out  in  his  mem- 
ory with  peculiar  prominence.  He  did  not  experi- 
ence the  amplification  of  time  and  space  like  De 
Quincey,  but  the  idea  of  size  which  he  attached 
to  his  person  and  belongings,  and  the  presumed 
length  of  time  which  he  spent  in  his  various 
operations,  require  a  similar  amplification  of  those 
conceptions.  The  pictures  of  grandeur  and  beauty 
which  his  own  person,  that  of  his  wife,  and  his 
house  exhibited,  in  all  the  reality  of  actual  pres- 
entation, indicated  unequivocal  derangement  of 
his  visual  apparatus.  It  is  evident  that  no  new 
ideas  or  pictures  were  produced  by  the  action 
of  his  brain  in  its  novel  condition.  Old  ones 
in  part  or  in  whole  were  reproduced,  amplified, 
jumbled  together,  or  otherwise  perverted.  In 
physiological  terms,  the  cell-groupings  and  cell- 


186  VISIONS. 

modifications,  which  had  previously  been  formed, 
were  partially  reproduced  in  greater  or  less  dis- 
order, with  a  corresponding  disorder  of  ideas. 
Like  the  explosion  of  a  shell  in  the  midst  of  a 
battalion,  which  throws  the  troops  into  strange 
combinations  of  confusion  and  rout,  or  the  violent 
unrhythmical  striking  of  the  keys  of  a  piano, 
yielding  sound  without  music,  the  passage  of  can- 
nabis Indica  through  the  cells  of  Mr.  K.'s  brain 
produced  singularly  disordered  cell  combinations, 
and  ideas  without  reason. 

Alcohol  has  probably  caused  more  visions,  such 
as  they  are,  than  all  other  drugs  combined.  It 
also  has  been,  and  still  is,  a  prolific  source  of  dis- 
cussion and  bone  of  contention.  Even  its  physio- 
logical action,  a  purely  scientific  matter,  has  be- 
come a  question  of  popular  debate ;  and  those 
who  are  ignorant  alike  of  the  rudiments  of  physi- 
ological chemistry  and  of  experimental  research, 
discuss  the  relation  of  alcohol  to  the  system,  and 
criticize  the  results  of  modern  investigation  with 
regard  to  it,  as  if  they  were  profound  experts. 
Fortunately  it  is  not  necessary  for  the  purpose  of 
this  essay,  to  discuss  any  of  the  questions,  scientific 
or  moral,  which  teetotallers,  their  opponents,  or 
reformei's  of  any  sort,  have  raised  with  regard  to 
alcohol.  The  visions  of  alcohol  are  matters,  about 
the  existence  of  which  there  is  no  doubt. 

Alcohol  is  the  active  principle  of  all  sorts  of 
ardent  spirits,  wines,  ales,  beers,  and  the  like. 
They  differ  from  each  other   in  various  ingredi- 


VISIONS.  187 

ents,  as  acids,  etlierial  oils,  flavoring  and  coloring 
substances,  which  render  them  more  or  less  agree- 
able to  the  palate,  the  stomach,  and  the  constitu- 
tion of  different  individuals,  and  which  give  to 
them  a  varying  therapeutic  value ;  but  after  all, 
that  to  which  they  owe  their  chief  importance  is 
alcohol.  Without  that  constituent,  they  would 
do  very  little  good  or  harm  in  the  world.  Alcohol 
is  the  devil  or  angel,  always  lurking  at  the  bottom 
of  the  cup.  It  hides  in  the  rich  man's  bottle,  and 
in  the  poor  man's  dram.  Any  of  these  liquors, 
taken  in  sufficient  quantity,  and  for  a  sufficient 
length  of  time,  will  disturb  the  nervous  system, 
peculiarly  affect  the  visual  apparatus,  and  lead  to 
dreams  and  visions. 

As  might  be  expected,  the  pseudopia  of  alcohol 
has  a  character  of  its  own.  The  visions  of  opium, 
however  distinct  and  fascinating,  are  subjective, 
soothing  to  the  general  nervous  system,  and  stim- 
ulating to  the  imagination.  The  opium-eater  loves 
to  retire  into  a  corner,  away  from  a  crowd,  wrap 
himself  up  in  revery,  and  gaze  on  his  pictures  in 
silence.  The  visions  of  cannabis  Indica  are  ob- 
jective, magnificent,  and  commanding.  He  who 
takes  it  projects  the  disordered  figments  of  his 
own  brain  into  space,  makes  them  imperial,  and 
becomes  the  autocrat  of  his  imperial  world.  The 
visions  of  alcohol  are  objective,  confused,  and  tur- 
bulent. Less  imaginative  than  those  of  opium, 
less  royal  than  those  of  Indian  hemp,  they  endow 
ordinary  scenes  and   objects  with  life,  and  with 


188  VISIONS. 

life  which  is  often  ridiculous,  sometimes  tragic, 
and  always  vulgar.  Lying  on  his  bed,  the  victim 
of  delirium  tremens  converts  the  rude  pictures  of 
his  papered  walls  into  a  living  and  active  pano- 
rama, transforming  its  irregular  lines  into  crawl- 
ing snakes  and  creeping  things,  its  shadows  into 
hobgoblins,  and  all  about  him  into  strange  shapes. 
In  the  movement  of  his  bedclothes,  he  sees  the 
phmghig  of  unnatural  animals  ;  giants  in  busts 
and  plaster  casts  ;  and  tlie  face  of  a  devil  in  the 
countenance  of  his  wife ;  he  hears  the  cries  of  the 
damned  in  the  voices  of  his  children  ;  and  sur- 
rounds himself  with  scenes  of  unutterable  horror, 
the  distortions  or  caricatures  of  his  surroundings. 
Commonly  the  emotion  of  fear  is  excited  by  the 
shapes  and  horrors  which  alcohol  evokes,  or  at 
least  simultaneously  with  them.  The  drunkard 
is  timid.  He  tries  to  conceal  himself  in  his  bed- 
clothes from  his  tormentors,  or  to  run  from  them, 
or  in  despair  and  self-defence  to  kill  them.  Often 
bombastic  and  vain,  he  rarely  manifests  true  cour- 
age. 

Irregular  muscular  action  is  characteristic  of 
alcoholic  intoxication.  The  tottering  gait  of  the 
drunkard  is  unfortunately  too  well  known  ;  but  it 
is  not  so  well  known  that  occasionally  incoordina- 
tion of  muscular  action  affects  the  ocular  muscles, 
generally  the  internal  rectus,  thereby  producing 
double  vision.  This  is  another  instance  of  an 
agent,  which,  to  the  power  of  inducing  cerebral 
pseudopia,  joins  that  of  affecting  the  ocular  appa- 


VISIONS.  189 

ratus.  Opium  and  cannabis  Indica,  as  already 
stated,  contract  the  ii-is  ;  belladonna,  as  will  be 
mentioned  presently,  dilates  it ;  alcohol  disturbs 
the  action  of  the  eye-ball.  Perhaps  it  might  be 
expected  that  agents,  which  act  decidedly  on  one 
part  of  the  visual  machinery,  would  afEect  other 
parts  also.  A  drug,  which  has  the  power  of  de- 
ranging the  irides,  might  extend  its  influence  a 
little  farther  up,  and  take  hold  of  the  cells  of  the 
yisual  ganglia,  giving  rise  to  motion  in  the  iris, 
and  visions  above. 

Alcohol  does  not  produce  pseudopia  so  readily  as 
opium,  cannabis  Indica,  belladonna,  and  the  like. 
A  single  dose,  or  a  few  doses  of  these  agents  is 
often  sufficient  to  excite  the  visual  apparatus  to 
activity.  One  dose  of  alcohol  may  intoxicate  the 
person  who  ventures  to  take  it,  and  lead  to  a 
great  deal  of  nervous  disorder,  but  will  rarely  if 
ever  call  up  visions.  They  occur  only  after  it  has 
been  taken  long  enough  to  bring  about  an  organic 
change  in  cerebral  nerve  tissue ;  and  then  they 
appear  as  one  of  the  results  of  that  change,  rather 
than  as  a  direct  effect  of  alcohol.  The  organic 
changes  which  alcoholic  liquids  induce  in  the  vis- 
ual ganglia,  deprive  those  centres  of  their  normal 
accuracy  of  perception.  Probably  the  angular 
gyri  and  ideational  centres  are  more  profoundly 
affected  than  the  tubercula  quadrigemina  and  ocu- 
lar apparatus.  In  like  manner  the  same  agent 
gradually  deprives  the  motor  ganglia  of  locomo- 
tive perception  and  action,  and  hence  general  mus- 


]  no  VISIONS. 

cular  tremor  and  incoordinated  gait.  Thei-e  is  an 
analogy  between  a  drunkard's  visions  and  liis  step. 
Occasionally,  however,  bis  visions  instead  of  being 
absurd  and  confused  embrace  distinct  and  intelli- 
gible objects.  Thus  in  the  first  of  the  previous 
series  of  cases,  the  black  dog  which  appeared  to 
the  patient  was  neither  a  caricature  nor  a  monster, 
but  bore  a  normal  canine  shape  and  expression. 
The  cerebral  cell-groups,  which  were  the  hiero- 
glyphic of  that  dog,  were  reproduced  by  the  alco- 
holized brain,  excited  by  some  unknown  stimulus. 
The  visions  caused  by  ether  and  chloroform 
resemble  those  of  hysteria  and  ordinary  febrile 
delirium,  rather  than  those  which  follow  opium 
or  cannabis  Indica.  In  some  respects  they  are 
like  those  of  an  alcoholized  brain.  During  pro- 
found anaesthesia,  ideational  as  well  as  sensory 
action  is  abolished.  When  the  system  is  put  un- 
der the  influence  of  the  inhalation  of  ether,  there 
are  first  a  sense  of  exhilaration  and  fulness  in  the 
head,  combined  generally  with  tinnitus  aurium. 
"  These  are  soon  succeeded  by  a  feeling  of  the 
immediate  surroundings  being  afar  off,  and.  this 
soon  fades  into  semi-unconsciousness  with  visions 
and  illusions.  These  are  of  various  characters, 
and  are  often  accompanied  by  a  species  of  delir- 
ium. Some  patients  weep,  others  laugh;  some 
shout,  some  pray,  some  rave,  and  some  become* 
exceedingly  pugnacious."^     Etherization  admira- 

1   Therapeutics,   Materia  Medica,   etc.,  by  G.  C.  "Wood,   Jr., 
p.  242. 


VISIONS.  191 

bly  brings  out  the  anatomical  arrangement  of  the 
nervous  system  in  distinct  centres,  and  their  cor- 
responding separate  functional  action.  According 
to  Flourens,  "  the  order  of  the  involvement  of  the 
nerve-centres  (by  inhalation  of  ether)  in  man  and 
animals,  is  .first,  the  cerebrum,  next  the  sensory 
centres  of  the  cord,  next  the  motor  centres  of 
the  cord,  next  the  sensory  centres  of  the  medulla 
oblongata,  and  finally,  the  motor  centres  of  the 
medulla  oblongata."  ^  If  the  anatomist  had  not 
discovered  the  distinct  centres  or  stations  of  the 
cerebro-spinal  system,  the  physiologist  would  be 
warranted  in  asserting  their  existence  from  the 
phenomena  of  etherization.  Ether  puts  to  sleep 
one  function  of  the  nervous  system  after  another. 
Step  by  step,  it  ascends  from  the  lowest  to  the 
highest — from  the  simplest  to  the  most  complex 
—  parts  of  the  mechanism  of  life,  destroying  the 
power  of  each  part  as  it  mounts,  till  all  vital 
manifestation  is  annihilated.  The  functions  cease 
separately  and  in  a  certain  regular  order.  The 
inference  is  inevitable  that  each  function  disap- 
pears, because  the  organ  to  which  the  function  is 
attached  is  controlled  by  ether,  and  prevented 
from  functionating.  So,  by  parity  of  reasoning,  if 
an  ideational  function  of  vision  can  be  called  into 
activity  or  abolished  by  artificial  means,  like  opium 
or  alcohol,  which  act  on  the  frontal  lobes,  the  ex- 
istence of  an  organic  centre  in  those  lobes,  above 
the  angular  gyri,  may  be  fairly  inferred.     Bella- 

1  Therapeutics,  Materia  Medica,  etc.,  by  G.  C.  Wood,  Jr.,  p.  243, 


192  VISIONS. 

donna,  liyoscyamus,  and  stramonium  add  their 
testimony  to  that  of  the  drugs  ah'eady  quoted. 
All  of  these,  in  sufficient  doses,  give  rise  to  a  pe- 
culiar, whimsical  and  muttering  sort  of  delirium, 
accompanied  with  visual  disturbance,  showing  their 
power  to  call  into  action  the  ideo-motor  and  vis- 
ual centres.  All  of  them  also  possess  the  power, 
whether  administered  locally  or  internally,  of  di- 
lating the  pupil,  and  are  used  by  oculists  for  that 
purpose :  an  additional  illustration  of  the  fact, 
that  medicinal  agents  which  affect  one  part  of  the 
mechanism  of  vision  affect  other  parts  of  it  also. 

The  doctrine  of  these  pages,  that  the  process  of 
vision  is  confided  to  a  mechanism  consisting  of 
distinct  parts,  each  part  being  under  the  control 
of  a  centre  or  ganglion,  the  whole  united,  however, 
so  as  to  form  a  unit,  is  confirmed,  as  our  state- 
ments have  indicated,  by  the  teachings  of  physiol- 
ogy, and  the  results  of  experimental  investigation. 
It  has  also  been  shown  that  this  process,  ordinarily 
and  normally  called  into  action  by  external  objects, 
as  living  beings  and  natural  scenes,  may  also  be 
called  into  action,  subjectively,  by  such  factors  as 
emotion,  association,  habit,  expectant  attention, 
automatism,  blood  supply,  drugs,  and  influences 
which  accompany  these  forces.  It  remains  to  ex- 
amine the  relation  of  disease  and  volition  to  the 
process  under  consideration. 

Unfortunately  our  knowledge  of  the  pathology 
of  the  nervous  system,  and  especially  of  the  brain, 
is  yet  in  its  infancy.     Nor  is  this  all.     Recent  in- 


'Mf^ 


VISIONS.  193 

vestigations,  both  clinical  and  experimental,  show 
that  much  which  was  supposed  to  be  knowledge 
in  this  direction  is  largely  mixed  with  error  ;  and 
that  consequently  the  whole  territory  of  nervous 
pathology  must  be  restudied,  —  a  labor  which  some 
of  the  ablest  medical  scientists  of  the  present 
day  have  undertaken.  Such  being  the  case,  it  is 
scarcely  to  be  expected  that  so  minute  a  portion 
of  this  territory  as  that  appropriated  to  the 
mechanism  of  vision  should  have  received  much 
attention  as  yet.  Something,  however,  has  been 
accomplished  in  the  way  of  unravelling  the  mys- 
teries of  nervous  affections,  and  what  has  been 
done  throws  considerable  light  upon  the  subject 
of  our  present  inquiry.  The  phenomena  of  dis- 
ease sometimes  point  the  way  to  an  explanation 
of  the  phenomena  of  health. 

The  eye  itself  is  frequently  attacked  by  disease. 
Its  pathology  as  well  as  its  physiology  has  been 
carefully  explored,  and  it  may  be  safely  asserted 
that,  at  the  present  time,  ophthalmology  ap- 
proaches nearer  to  an  exact  science  than  any 
other  branch  of  medicine.  But  the  eye  is  only 
one  part  of  the  machinery  of  vision ;  and  being 
the  most  external  part,  is  more  easily  studied,  and 
its  diseases  are  more  readily  recognized  than  is 
the  case  with  the  deeper  seated  portions  of  the 
same  machinery.  The  intra-cranial  sections  of 
the  visual  apparatus,  hid  in  the  recesses  of  the 
brain,  are  not  readily  accessible  to  investigation, 
and  have  been   studied  chiefly  as  a  part  of  the 

13 


194  VISIONS. 

general  cerebral  mass.  A  knowledge  of  them 
and  their  diseases  is  not  less  necessary  to  a  com- 
prehension of  all  the  phenomena  of  orthopia  and 
pseudopia  than  an  acquaintance  with  those  of  the 
eye  itself.  But  the  diseases  of  this  obscure  region 
are  not  better  known,  to  say  the  least,  than  affec- 
tions of  the  brain,  of  which  it  forms  a  part. 

Another  and  serious  difficulty  in  the  way  of  ob- 
taining from  the  study  of  cerebral  diseases  the 
light  which  they  might  be  naturally  expected  to 
throw  upon  the  process  and  phenomena  of  vision, 
is  to  be  found  in  the  fact  that  they  are  rarely 
limited  to  the  visual  territory,  but  commonly  ex- 
tend beyond  it.  A  clot  of  blood,  effused  into  the 
angular  gyri,  is  not  often  confined  there,  but  in- 
volves, by  its  size  or  by  the  morbid  action  it  sets 
up,  the  auditory  centre  and  more  or  less  of  the 
neighboring  motor  centres.  A  lesion  affecting 
the  tubercula  quadrigemina  is  rarely  limited  to 
the  tubercles,  but  takes  hold  of  the  surrounding 
region  also.  In  such  cases  it  is  always  difficult, 
often  impossible,  to  discriminate  between  symp- 
toms produced  by  a  lesion  of  a  visual  centre  alone, 
and  those  produced  by  derangement  of  a  consider- 
able tract,  of  which  the  centre  forms  a  part.  In 
spite  of  these  difficulties,  a  careful  study  of  cases 
of  cerebral  disease,  involving  a  part  or  the  whole 
of  the  machinery  of  vision,  and  a  comparison  of 
them  with  the  results  of  direct  experiment,  have 
already  led  to  many  new  and  valuable  conclusions. 
When,  as  now  and  then  happens,  a  lesion  is  lim- 


VISIONS.  195 

ited  to  one  or  more  parts  of  the  visual  apparatus, 
the  investigation  of  it,  correspondingly  simplified, 
yields  results  of  the  highest  importance  to  phys- 
iology and  pathology.  These  pages  have  been 
enriched  by  two  or  three  such  cases,  reported  by 
Charcot.  Clinical  observation  yields,  moreover,  a 
large  number  of  cases  of  non-fatal  diseases  of  the 
brain,  which  illustrate  and  to  some  extent  explain 
the  subject  of  visions.  Fevers  of  all  sorts,  many 
cerebral  affections,  accidents  involving  the  brain, 
intemperance,  insanities,  and  other  derangements 
give  rise  to  a  plentiful  crop  of  visions,  many  of 
which  admit  of  being  observed  with  tolerable  ease, 
and  amply  repay  the  physician  for  the  necessary 
time  and  trouble  of  observation.  It  is,  in  fact, 
upon  a  series  of  such  cases  that  the  present  paper 
is  founded,  and  from  which  it  derives  its  prin- 
cipal value.  Cases  of  visions  are  not  unusual. 
They  enter  into  the  experience  of  most  practi- 
tioners. It  is  not  difficult,  therefore,  for  the 
clinical  observer  to  obtain  facts,  illustrating  the 
abnormal  action  of  the  visual  apparatus  ;  the  diffi- 
culty lies  in  the  correct  interpretation  of  the  facts 
observed. 

Anatomy  describes  the  raw  material  and  organ- 
ization of  the  brain.  Physiology  describes  the 
cerebral  functions  and  their  modes  of  action.  Clin- 
ical observation  tests  the  accuracy  of  anatomical 
and  physiological  teaching,  and  supplements  them 
botli  by  pathological  research.  The  brain  must 
be  approached  by  all  these  avenues,  and  must  be 


196  VISIONS. 

studied  in  action  during  life,  as  well  as  by  the 
microscope  and  scalpel  after  death,  in  order  to 
comprehend  its  power.  The  most  careful  exam- 
ination and  exact  knowledge  of  the  structure  and 
jjarts  of  a  steam  engine  would  fail  to  reveal  its 
force  or  final  cause.  A  study  of  it  in  action  would 
disclose  its  normal  but  not  its  abnormal  capacities. 
An  acquaintance  with  the  whole  varied  experi- 
ence of  an  engine's  life  ;  with  its  efforts  and  fi'ac- 
tures  ;  its  handling  by  different  engineers,  good 
and  bad,  drunk  and  sober ;  its  exposures,  illnesses 
and  recoveries,  would  reveal  in  it  capacities,  ec- 
centricities, and  idiosyncracies  which,  without  such 
observation,  would  never  be  brought  to  light.  So 
with  the  visual  apparatus.  The  anatomist  can 
take  it  to  pieces,  and  show  its  parts  like  those  of 
a  telescope ;  the  physiologist  can  exhibit  its  power 
and  working  and  field  of  vision  ;  but  from  the 
clinical  observer  must  be  obtained  not  only  the 
authentication  of  every  physiological  law  concern- 
ing it,  but  whatever  knowledge  it  is  possible  to 
obtain  with  regard  to  its  abnormal  action,  and 
the  modifications  impressed  upon  its  functions  by 
the  varied  experience  of  the  cerebral  life  of  which 
it  forms  a  part. 

Notwithstanding  all  the  difficulties  attending  it, 
and  they  are  many  and  great,  medical  science  owes 
a  large  portion  of  its  present  knowledge  of  cere- 
bral affections  to  clinical  observation.  Among 
its  contributions  are  to  be  found  6ome  of  especial 
salue  to  the  student  of  visions. 


VISIONS.  197 

The  first  of  these  in  importance  is  the  confirma- 
tion, perhaps  it  would  be  more  just  to  say,  the 
demonstration  of  the  fact,  that  visions  may  and 
do  occur ;  that  subjective  seeing  being  more  than 
lancy,  and  more  than  a  mere  possibiUty,  is  an  oc- 
casional reality.  Clinical  observation  asserts  the 
existence  of  the  phenomena  of  pseudopia,  as  a 
symptom  of  cerebral  disease,  with  as  much  cer- 
tainty as  it  does  that  of  paralysis  or  pain,  as  symp- 
tomatic of  nervous  derangement.  The  full  signifi- 
cance of  the  existence  of  such  phenomena  has  not 
been  hitherto  duly  appreciated.  Visions  have 
been  and  are  commonly  regarded,  even  by  medi- 
cal men,  as  figments  of  the  imagination  —  airy 
nothings  —  rather  than  as  manifestations  of  ab- 
normal brain  action.  From  the  age  of  Hippoc- 
rates till  now,  clinicians  have  recognized  the  oc- 
currence of  various  sorts  of  pseudopia,  in  connec- 
tion with  a  variety  of  maladies,  and,  content  with 
regarding  them  as  a  part  of  delirium  or  kind  of 
hallucination,  have  neglected  to  inquire  further. 
This  neglect  only  enhances  the  value  of  their  tes- 
timony to  the  fact,  that  the  visual  apparatus  is 
capable  of  being  thrown  into  action  by  intra- 
cranial causes.  It  was  stated  in  the  earlier  part 
of  this  essay  that  we  do  not  see  with  our  eyes,  or 
hear  with  our  ears.  Clinical  observation,  in  con- 
firmation of  this  physiological  statement,  asserts 
that  it  has  met  at  the  bedside  those  whose  brains, 
under  the  influence  of  disease,  saw,  though  their 
eyes  were  blind  ;  and  conversely,  has  met  with 


198  VISIONS. 

those,  who,  with  eyes  capable  of  vision,  had  brains 
which  were  not. 

This  physiological  fact,  the  demonstration  of 
which  is  largely  due  to  clinical  observation,  is 
emphasized  in  this  connection,  on  account  of  its 
great  importance.  By  subjective  sight  is,  of 
course,  meant  the  seeing  of  objects  and  scenes,  by 
the  reproduction  of  cell  groups,  without  the  stim- 
ulus of  any  external  object.  This  fact,  which  has 
long  been  known  as  one  of  the  results  of  cerebral 
disease,  and  which  has  stood  prominently  out  be- 
fore the  eyes  of  clinical  observers,  has  received 
very  little  attention,  in  comparison  with  that  be- 
stowed on  the  visions  of  charlatan  spiritualists, 
prophets,  enthusiasts,  and  others,  who  have  ex- 
cited the  wonder  and  awe  of  the  world.  The 
brain  of  a  drunkard,  who  sees  a  black  dog  in  an 
image  on  his  mantel,  or  a  burglar  in  the  form  of 
his  wife,  may  be  in  a  condition,  so  far  as  its  visual 
cell  groups  are  concerned,  not  unlike  that  of  some 
rapt  votary,  who  sees  the  countenance  of  his  pa- 
tron saint,  beaming  from  his  crucifix  ;  or  from 
that  of  an  excited  soldier,  who,  on  the  eve  of  a 
battle  is  blessed  by  the  appearance  of  his  mother's 
face  in  the  midst  of  his  prayers  and  tears.  The 
fact  being  accepted,  which  clinical  observation 
has  chiefly  substantiated,  that  morbid  states  of 
the  intracranial  apparatus  may  lead  to  the  estab- 
lishment of  visions,  the  foundation  is  laid  for  the 
rational  explanation  of  many  phenomena,  hitherto 
regarded  as  inexplicable.     It  is  singular  that  this 


VISIONS.  199 

important  fact,  which  disease  has  for  a  long  period 
clearly  revealed,  should  have  received  so  little  at- 
tention. Physicians  are  so  familiar  with  visions 
as  symptoms  in  febrile  and  nervous  derangements 
that  they  have  overlooked  the  physiological  im- 
portance of  such  symptoms  in  other  and  psycho- 
logical relations.  One  of  the  most  important  con- 
tributions, then,  towards  an  accurate  knowledge 
of  visions  has  come  from  a  study  of  disease  ;  name- 
ly, the  demonstration  of  the  fact  of  their  subjec- 
tive existence. 

It  should  be  noticed,  in  the  second  place,  that 
a  knowledge  of  the  conditions  necessary  to  the 
production  of  visions  can  be  obtained  only  or 
chiefly  by  a  study  of  diseases  in  which  they  oc- 
cur. This  point  was  discussed  when  speaking  of 
blood  supply,  including  nutrition,  and  other  agen- 
cies, which  influence  the  grouping  of  nerve  cells 
and  modify  nerve  tissue.  It  is  therefore  unneces- 
sary to  dwell  upon  it  again  now.  Habit,  associ- 
ation, attention,  and  other  modes  of  cerebral  activ- 
ity are  intensified  in  their  action  by  many  dis- 
eases, and  produce  visual  effects,  which  without 
the  underlying  morbid  state,  could  not  be  brought 
about.  Hypersemia  or  anajmia  of  a  visual  centre 
may  set  the  visual  telegraph  in  operation,  and 
notify  a  higher  centre  subjectively  of  the  pres- 
ence of  a  dog,  or  child,  or  angel,  or  devil,  just 
as  the  same  condition,  in  a  motor  centre,  may 
set  the  motor  apparatus  at  work,  and  produce 
convulsions ;    or   in    a    centre    of   sensation,    may 


200  VISIONS. 

produce  neuralgia.  It  is  not  intended  by  this 
statement  to  affirm  that  all  visions  rest  upon  dis- 
ease as  their  basis ;  but  it  is  intended  to  affirm 
that  visions  do  not  occur,  unless  some  abnormal 
state  of  the  visual  nerve  mechanism  is  produced, 
through  which  they  are  manifested,  and  which 
condition  their  manifestation.  Disease  contrib- 
utes the  conditions  necessary  to  the  production  of 
subjective  visions,  and  so  leads  the  way  to  an  in- 
vestigation of  their  pathology.  It  does  not  mili- 
tate against  this  view  of  the  etiology  of  pseudopia, 
that  cerebral  morbid  states,  producing  visions,  may 
be  artificially  induced.  Changes  in  the  quantity 
and  quality  of  the  blood,  circulating  through  the 
visual  nerve  centres,  are  doubtless  the  most  fre- 
quent causes  of  inducing  those  cell-groups  and  cell 
modifications  which  are  the  hieroglyphics  of  vis- 
ions. Such  changes  undoubtedly  occur  in  fevers, 
starvation,  delirium  tremens,  and  other  affections, 
among  the  symptoms  of  which  are  subjective  sights 
and  sounds. 

The  third  point  to  be  mentioned  has,  like  the 
previous  one,  been  already  touched  upon.  It  is 
this  :  Physiology  obtains  from  the  clinical  obser- 
vation of  disease  the  final  and  complete  demon- 
stration, that  the  visual  function  is  localized  in 
a  special  intracranial  apparatus.  Experiments, 
like  those  of  Hitzig  and  Ferrier,  may  render  the 
localization  more  than  probable ;  but  such  ex- 
periments were  performed  on  animals,  and  the 
results  cannot  be  transferred  absolutely  from  ani- 


VISIONS.  201 

mals  to  man.  Neither  is  it  justifiable,  if  it  were 
desirable,  to  experiment  on  men  as  on  animals,  in 
order  to  decide  the  question.  Disease,  however, 
performs  what  experiment  would  not  dare  to 
undertake.  By  its  mysterious  processes  it  attacks 
different  parts  of  the  brain,  producing  all  sorts 
of  cerebral  lesions  and  cerebral  blood  changes. 
Sometimes  these  lesions  or  changes  are  limited 
to  one  or  more  visual  centres,  thus  enabling  the 
clinical  observer  to  test  the  accuracy  of  the  phys- 
iologist's statements  with  regard  to  the  function 
of  those  parts. 

It  thus  appears  that  disease  reveals  the  fact  of 
the  existence  of  subjective  vision  ;  secondly,  that 
it  occasionally  facilitates  the  appearance  of  vis- 
ions, and  by  many  of  its  processes  affords  an  op- 
portunity for  a  study  of  the  character  and  condi- 
tions of  cerebral  seeing;  and,  thirdly,  that  it 
confirms  the  recent  assertion  of  physiology,  as  to 
the  localization  of  the  visual  function  in  a  special 
part  of  the  brain,  and  in  a  peculiar  apparatus. 

The  last  influence  or  factor,  which  it  is  neces- 
sary to  mention  in  this  connection,  as  capable  of 
facilitating  the  appearance  of  visions,  and  in  rare 
instances  of  initiating  them,  is  Volition. 

If  there  were  a  locomotive  running  over  our 
railroads,  stopping  at  one  station  to  take  passen- 
gers in,  and  at  another  to  let  them  out,  slowing 
its  speed  around  a  curve  and  over  a  bridge,  and 
hurrying  its  pace  on  a  straight  and  level  road, 
cautiously  feeling  its  way  through  a  tunnel  or  into 


202  VIRIONS. 

a  city,  putting  forth  all  its  power  to  surmount  an 
ascending  grade,  and  with  equal  effort  holding 
back  on  a  descending  one,  advertising  with  a  shrill 
cry  the  careless  and  halt  and  blind  to  avoid  its 
path,  starting  at  a  fixed  moment  and  reaching  its 
various  goals  with  exactness,  and  doing  this  and 
all  its  labor  intelligently,  with  the  engineer  invisi- 
ble ;  if  such  a  locomotive  could  be  found,  there 
would  at  once  spring  up  around  it  two  classes  of 
philosophers ;  of  whom,  one  class  would  attribute 
to  the  engine  itself,  including  its  mechanism,  and 
aided  perhaps  by  the  reaction  of  its  surroundings 
on  its  wheels  and  springs,  the  power  of  self  guid- 
ance ;  while  the  other  class  maintaining  an  oppo- 
site view,  would  assert  the  existence  and  constant 
presence  of  an  invisible  engineer.  The  human 
brain,  an  engine  more  delicate,  wonderful,  and 
powerful  than  any  of  which  man  has  conceived, 
started  on  life's  devious  way  some  thousands  of 
years  ago,  has  been  running  over  it  since  and  is 
running  still.  Its  engineer  is  invisible,  and  be-^ 
cause  invisible,  many  have  doubted  if  there  is  one. 
This  essay  is  based  on  the  hypothesis,  the  author 
believes  on  the  fact,  that  a  cerebral  engineer  ex- 
ists, who,  within  certain  definite  physiological 
limits,  guides  and  controls  his  engine  ;  an  engi- 
neer who  is  a  self  acting  cause.  Whatever  name 
may  be  given  to  him.  Soul,  Ego,  the  Me,  or  other 
title,  he  is  known  only  by  his  volitions,  impressed 
on  his  engine.  Hence  the  importance,  in  this  dis- 
cussion, of   ascertaining  as  definitely  as   possible 


VISIONS.  203 

tae  relation  of  volition  to  the  visual  function. 
However  much  the  engine  may  act  automatically, 
or  be  trained  to  act  so,  the  cerebral  engineer,  by 
teaching  some  secret  nerve  centre  or  cell,  as 
the  engineer  of  a  locomotive  touches  a  protected 
spring,  modifies,  more  or  less,  the  movements  of 
the  mechanism  intrusted  to  his  care.  It  is  not 
probable  that  there  is  a  nerve  centre,  cell,  or  fibre, 
removed  from  his  supervision  or  beyond  his  reach. 
Even  the  centres  of  special  sense,  those  of  sight, 
hearing,  taste,  and  smell,  which  are  charged  with 
the  duty  of  reporting  the  outer  world  to  him,  are 
influenced  by  his  commands,  and  sometimes  con- 
trolled by  his  volition. 

It  is  not  intended,  by  these  statements,  to  assert 
that  physiology  has  discovered  the  point  of  con- 
tact between  Mind  and  Brain,  or  that  the  exist- 
ence of  an  Ego  —  an  engineer — has  been  demon- 
strated, in  the  sense  that  three  angles  of  a  simple 
triangle  have  been  demonstrated  to  be  equal  to 
two  right  angles  ;  but  it  is  intended  to  assert  that 
these  statements,  if  a  cerebral  engineer  exists,  are 
logically  true. 

This  brings  us  to  the  question,  how  far  does 
volition  influence  vision  ;  —  how  far  does  the  will 
control  sight.  It  is  admitted  by  all  physiologists 
that  the  will  controls,  or  at  least  modifies  all  the 
functions.  Even  the  processes  of  disease  are  af- 
fected, and  sometimes  initiated  by  the  will.  The 
proverb  that  "the  mind  can  kill  and  the  mind  can 
cure  "  not  only  illustrates  a  popular  belief,  but  a 


204  VISIONS. 

physiological  truth.  When  the  will  directs  the 
power  of  attention  to  any  object,  it  has  already 
been  shown  that  all  the  senses  are  sharpened  in 
their  attempt  to  carry  out  the  directions  of  the 
will.  Objects  are  seen  and  impressions  recog- 
nized, which  would  not  otherwise  be  noticed.  In 
like  manner,  whatever  is  performed  under  the 
cognizance  of  the  will,  and  especially  whatever  is 
performed  in  obedience  to  an  express  act  of  voli- 
tion, is  done  with  enhanced  energy. 

If  physiology  has  not  succeeded  in  exposing  the 
process  by  which  the  will  communicates  with  the 
body  and  secures  obedience,  it  has  succeeded  in 
establishing  the  fact,  that  the  results  of  the  will 
are  attained  by  indirect,  and  not  by  direct  action. 
The  will  does  not  move  the  hand  or  the  eye  by 
directly  communicating  a  force  or  stimulus  to 
them,  but  by  playing  upon  the  ganglia,  which 
automatically  call  into  action  the  necessary  nervo- 
muscular  combinations.  "  No  better  illustration 
of  this  doctrine  could  be  adduced,  than  that  which 
is  furnished  by  the  act  of  Vocalization ;  either  in 
articulate  Speech,  or  in  the  production  of  musical 
tones.  In  each  of  these  acts,  the  coordination  of 
a  large  number  of  muscular  movements  is  re- 
quired ;  and  so  complex  are  their  combinations, 
that  the  professed  anatomist  would  be  unable, 
without  careful  study,  to  determine  what  is  the 
precise  state  of  each  of  the  muscles  concerned  in 
the  production  of  a  given  musical  note,  or  the 
enunciation    of    a    particular   syllable.     Yet    we 


VISIONS.  205 

simply  conceive  the  tone  or  the  syllable  we  wish 
to  utter,  and  say  to  our  automatic  self  '  Do  this : ' 
and  the  well-trained  automaton  does  it.  The 
delicate  gradations  in  the  action  of  each  individual 
muscle,  and  the  harmonious  combination  of  the 
whole,  are  effected  under  the  guidance  of  the  Ear, 
without  (save  in  exceptional  cases)  the  smallest 
knowledge  on  our  own  part  of  the  nature  of  the 
mechanism  we  are  putting  in  action.  In  fact,  the 
most  perfect  acquaintance  with  that  mechanism 
would  scarcely  afford  the  least  assistance  in  the 
acquirement  of  the  power  to  use  it.  The  '  train- 
ing '  which  develops  the  inarticulate  Cry  of  the 
infant  into  articulate  Speech  or  melodious  Song, 
mainly  consists  in  the  fixation  of  the  Attention  on 
the  audible  result,  the  selection  of  that  one  of  the 
imitative  efforts  to  produce  it  which  is  most  nearly 
successful,  and  the  repetition  of  this  until  it  has 
become  habitual  or  secondarily  automatic.  The 
Will  can  thenceforwards  reproduce  any  sound  once 
acquired,  by  calling  upon  the  Automatic  appara- 
tus for  the  particular  combination  of  movements 
which  it  has  grown  into  the  power  of  executing 
in  respondence  to  each  preconception  ;  provided, 
at  least,  that  the  apparatus  has  not  been  allowed 
to  become  rusty  by  disuse,  or  been  stiffened  by 
training  into  a  different  mode  of  action."  ^ 

This   illustration  of   Dr.  Carpenter  is   an   ad- 
mirable description  of  the  ijiethod  by  which  the 
will  influences,  and  perhaps   operates  the  human 
1  Mental  Physiology,  by  W.  B.  Carpenter,  pp.  20,  21. 


206  VISIONS. 

mechanism.  Disease  furnislies  many  illustrations 
of  the  same  soi-t.  The  follamng  incident,  which 
came  under  the  observation  of  the  late  Dr.  John 
Ware  of  Boston,  and  was  related  by  him  to  the 
author,  as  happily  illustrates  the  power  of  the  will 
over  morbid  processes,  as  that  of  Dr.  Carpenter 
does  its  powe>-  over  healthy  ones.  Miss  X.,  a 
bright  intelligent  girl,  eighteen  or  twenty  years 
old,  had  an  attack  of  bronchitis  which  involved 
not  only  the  bronchi,  but  her  larynx  and  vocal  ap- 
paratus. The  attack  was  not  severe  or  dangerous, 
but  prolonged,  and  refused  to  yield  readily  to 
treatment.  After  a  time  she  lost  her  voice.  At 
length  the  bronchitis  improved,  but  the  aphonia 
obstinately  persisted,  without  any  indication  of 
relief.  While  Miss  X.  was  suffering  in  this  way, 
a  notorious  charlatan  appeared  in  Boston,  who 
cured  diseases  in  the  old  ecclesiastical  way,  by 
laying  of  hands  on  the  affected  region.  Multitudes 
followed  him.  His  fame  was  great,  and  spread 
through  all  the  region  in  the  neighborhood  of  Bos- 
ton. Numerous  stories  were  told  of  his  healing 
gifts,  and  of  the  wonderful  cures  he  wrought.  As 
generally  happens  in  such  cases,  not  only  the  com- 
mon people  and  uneducated  sought  relief  from  him, 
but  many  intelligent  persons  were  attracted  to  him. 
Some  visited  him,  doubtless,  from  curiosity  alone, 
but  others  were  led  by  hope  and  faith  as  well. 
It  was  said  that  his  hall  was  full  of  the  crutches 
and  canes  of  the  rheumatic  and  infirm,  who  went 
thither  stiff  and  lame,  but  who,  cured  by  a  touch 


VISIONS.  207 

and  a  word,  left  their  artificial  supports  behind,  as 
trophies  of  the  healer's  power,  and  walked  away 
rejoicing  and  sound.  The  fame  of  the  therapist 
reached  the  ears  of  Miss  X.  and  her  family,  and 
excited  in  them  the  hope  that  he  might  restore  her 
voice.  After  due  deliberation,  the  consent  of  Dr. 
Ware  was  asked.  This  was  readily  given,  and 
Miss  X.  repaired  to  the  bureau  of  the  dealer  in 
cures.  He  heard  her  story,  passed  his  hands 
somewhat  roughly  over  her  throat,  told  her  to 
speak,  and  she  spoke.  Not  long  after  she  re- 
ported herself  to  Dr.  Ware,  who  expressed  much 
pleasure  at  the  recovery  of  her  voice,  but  did  not 
seem  to  be  surprised  at  the  result.  Miss  X.  was 
disappointed,  perhaps  a  little  nettled,  by  the 
Doctor's  indifference.  The  aphonia,  which  was 
hysterical,  did  not  return  at  once.  Some  time 
later,  she  called  again  upon  Dr.  Ware,  and  said  to 
him  :  "  Doctor,  I  wish  to  know  the  secret  of  the  re- 
covery of  my  voice.  At  our  last  interview,  you 
did  not  look  or  speak  as  if  you  thought  the  lay- 
ing on  of  hands  had  much  to  do  with  it."  "  I  did 
not  think  so,"  was  the  Doctor's  reply.  He  then  en- 
deavored to  explain  to  her  the  physiological  proc- 
ess, by  which  her  will,  stimulated  by  novelty 
and  hope  and  faith,  had  acted  almost  with  electric 
energy  upon  the  affected  nerves,  and  secured  the 
fortunate  result.  A  year  passed  by  and  then 
Miss  X.  had  a  return  of  bronchitis  and  aphonia. 
She  again  put  herself  under  the  care  of  Dr.  Ware, 
who,  again  finding  the    treatment   he    employed 


208  VISIONS. 

ineffectual,  himself  proposed  that  recourse  should 
be  had  to  the  charlatan.  This  was  done.  Miss  X. 
repaired  to  the  therapeutic  bureau.  The  old  proc- 
ess was  repeated,  and  the  old  order  given,  but  in 
vain.  Her  voice  refused  to  return.  The  apho- 
nia would  not  be  exorcised.  Once  more  she 
sought  Dr.  Ware,  who,  suspecting  the  real  cause 
of  failure,  told  her  that  in  consequence  of  his  pre- 
vious physiological  explanation,  she  had  less  faith 
than  before,  and  had  not  on  this  occasion  made 
sufficient  effort.  "  Now,"  continued  the  Doctor, 
"  if  you  choose,  as  you  sit  in  that  chair,  to  put  all 
your  will  into  the  effort,  and  try  with  intense  de- 
termination to  speak,  you  will  speak.  Try  it."  "  I 
will  try,"  said  Miss  X.  Determined,  if  will  could  do 
it,  that  there  should  be  will  enough,  and  redden- 
ing her  cheeks  in  the  struggle,  she  did  her  utmost 
to  speak,  and  her  voice  returned  and  remained  with 
her.  In  this  instance,  the  will,  playing  upon  the 
nervo-muscular  centres  of  the  complex  vocal  ap- 
paratus, acted  as  a  powerful  stimulant,  and  initiated 
the  process  of  recovery. 

Many  other  instances  might  be  adduced  of  the 
power  of  the  will  to  influence  the  causation  and 
progress  of  disease,  but  those  just  given  are  suffi- 
cient to  show  its  power,  not  only  over  the  nerve 
centres  in  general,  but  also  over  those  which  are 
apparently  quite  out  of  its  reach.  There  is  prob- 
ably no  part  of  the  body,  which  cannot  be  af- 
fected somewhat  by  volition.  Even  the  lungs  ac- 
knowledge its  sway  to  a  limited  degree.     Every 


VISIONS.  209 

one  knows  that  he  can  accelerate  or  slow  his  res- 
piration by  a  voluntary  effort,  though  he  cannot 
compel  his  lungs  to  cease  from  breathing  perma- 
nently. The  heart,  which  is  rendered  turbulent 
by  emotion,  sometimes  and  in  some  persons  is 
obedient  to  the  will.  The  familiar  and  celebrated 
case  of  Colonel  Townshend  is  an  illustration  of 
the  last  statement.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to 
quote  the  details  of  a  case  which  is  so  well  known. 
The  Colonel,  it  will  be  remembered,  told  his  phy- 
sician, Dr.  Cheyne,  that  he  could  stop  the  beat- 
ing of  his  heart  for  a  time  and  cause  it  to  beat 
again  whenever  he  chose  to  do  so.  Dr.  Cheyne 
seeming  astonished,  perhaps  incredulous,  at  such 
a  statement,  the  Colonel  proceeded  to  demon- 
strate its  truth.  He  was  sick  and  in  bed,  and  the 
Doctor  at  his  bedside.  Presently  the  experiment 
began ;  the  Colonel's  breathing  became  slow,  and 
the  beating  of  his  heart  slow  also.  Both  respi- 
ration and  cardiac  pulsation  grew  slower  and 
slower,  till  they  ceased  altogether.  No  pulsation 
could  be  felt  over  the  heart  or  radial  pulse.  A 
dry  watch  glass,  held  over  the  Colonel's  mouth, 
gave  no  evidence  of  moisture.  The  Doctor 
thought  that  his  patient  was  really  dead.  After 
remaining  nearly  half  an  hour  in  this  condition, 
the  Colonel's  heart  began  to  beat,  his  lungs  to 
act,  and  he  was  alive  again.  Dr.  Cheyne,  who 
reported  this  extraordinary  phenomenon,  was  in 
his  day  a  physician  of  repute  and  knowledge,  and 
one  not  likely  to  be  deceived.  Mr.  Skrine,  an 
14 


210  VISIONS. 

apothecary,  who  was  present,  witnessed  the  occur- 
rence and  confirmed  the  accuracy  of  Dr.  Cheyne's 
observation. 1  By  the  light  which  physiology  has 
recently  thrown  upon  the  functions  and  power  of 
the  nervous  system,  it  appears  to  be  by  no  means 
impossible  that  now  and  then  an  individual  might 
be  found,  whose  heart  could  be  controlled  by  the 
will,  even  to  the  extent  of  stopping  its  apparent 
pulsation. 

These  illustrations,  and  they  might  be  multi- 
plied indefinitely,  are  enough  to  show  that  the 
force  of  volition  extends,  with  varying  degrees 
of  power,  throughout  the  whole  organization. 
The  will,  or  Ego,  who  is  only  known  by  his  voli- 
tions, is  a  constitutional  monarch,  whose  authority 
within  certain  limits  is  acknowledged  throughout 
the  sytem.  If  he  chooses,  like  most  monarchs,  to 
extend  his  dominions  and  enlarge  his  power,  he 
can  do  so.  By  a  judicious  exercise  of  his  author- 
ity, employing  direct  rather  than  indirect  meas- 
ures, he  can  make  every  organ  his  cheerful  sub- 
ject. If  on  the  other  hand,  he  is  careless  of  his 
position,  sluggish  and  weary  of  constant  vigilance 
and  labor,  he  will  find  his  authority  slipping  from 
him,  and  himself  the  slave  of  his  ganglia.  It 
would  be  singular,  if  in  a  system  so  admirably 
arranged  and  harmoniously  adjusted  as  this,  the 
visual  ganglia  should  be  the  only  ones  withdrawn 
from  the  influence  and  authority  of  the  will.     Or 

1  It  should  be  remembered  that,  in  England,  an  apothecary  ia 
not  a  druggist,  but  a  general  practitioner. 


VISIONS.  211 

to  change  the  figure,  it  -would  be  singular,  if  in  a 
mechanism  of  such  harmony  and  perfection  as  the 
nervous  system,  the  only  part,  withdrawn  from  the 
supervision  of  its  engineer,  should  be  a  part  so  im- 
portant as  the  visual  apparatus.  Such  cannot  be 
the  case.  On  the  contrary,  the  influence  of  the 
will  guarded  by  appropriate  limitations  must  ex- 
tend beyond  the  eye  to  the  tubercula  quadrigem- 
ina,  the  angular  gyri,  and  the  ideational  visual 
centres  of  the  frontal  lobes.  That  the  Ego,  who  is 
known  to  us  only  as  will  or  volition,  can  influence 
the  process  of  vision  is  an  inference  from  the  pre- 
ceding considerations  which  amounts  to  demon- 
stration. This  inference  is  not  weakened,  because 
the  will  sometimes  or  generally  employs  indirect, 
rather  than  direct  measures  for  the  accomplish- 
ment of  its  ends.  If  in  order  to  produce  an  idea- 
tional picture  in  the  frontal  lobes,  the  will  excites 
emotion,  calls  in  the  aid  of  association,  and  fixes 
attention  and  by  these  means  compels  the  brain 
cells  into  forms  which  represent  a  picture,  it  is  as 
much  a  factor  in  the  visual  operation,  as  if  it  did 
all  the  work  itself.  Under  these  circumstances  it 
is  the  primum  mobile  —  an  initial  force —  a  cause. 
Evidence  is  not  altogether  wanting,  not  of  an 
inferential  character,  that  the  will  acts  on  the  in- 
tracranial visual  apparatus.  From  the  nature  of 
the  case,  the  evidence  cannot  be  of  the  experi- 
mental character,  upon  which  the  physiologist 
relies,  nor  of  the  pathological  character,  upon 
which  the   pathologist  relies ;  yet  it  possesses  a 


212  VISIONS. 

value,  second  only  to  that  of  physiological  experi- 
ment and  pathological  investigation.  The  weight 
which  should  be  attached  to  it  depends  in  every 
instance  upon  the  individual  who  gives  it  —  upon 
its  qualit}',  and  not  upon  its  quantity.  It  is  the 
assertion  of  individuals  that  they  can  produce 
subjective  vision  by  their  own  volition  and  have 
done  so.  Such  evidence  can  of  course,  be  received 
only  after  the  most  careful  scrutiny. 

Two  classes  of  persons  make  this  assertion ; 
children  and  adults.  The  evidence  derived  from 
the  first  class  is  the  most  valuable,  so  far  as  it 
goes,  for  children  are  unprejudiced  in  this  matter, 
and  have  no  theories  to  uphold.  They  tell  their 
story  unaware  of  its  value  or  bearing.  The  evi- 
dence derived  from  the  second  class  must  be  re- 
ceived with  great  caution.  Adults  have  theories 
and  love  to  be  the  subject  of  marvels. 

Many  children,  especially  very  young  children, 
possess  the  power,  when  they  have  closed  their 
eyes  in  the  dark,  of  surrounding  themselves,  by  a 
simple  act  of  volition,  with  a  panorama  of  odd 
sights.  The  objects  and  persons  evoked  are  not 
of  a  definite  character,  and  are  commonly  queer 
and  strange.  They  come  in  a  throng,  tumultu- 
ously,  and  disappear  on  opening  the  eyes.  Most 
children  who  possess  this  power  like  to  exercise 
it,  and  see  the  show,  which  they  can  call  up  in  the 
darkness.  Others  are  unwilling  to  exercise  it, 
and  are  often  afraid  of  going  to  bed  in  a  dark 
room,  on   account  of  the   crowd  of   ugly  beings 


VISIONS.  213 

which  come  floating  in  the  air  around  them  as 
they  try  to  go  to  sleep.  De  Quincey,  who  was 
aware  of  this  pecuharity  in  children,  speaks  of  it 
in  connection  with  the  effects  of  opium  upon  him- 
self :  "  The  fii-st  notice,"  he  says,  "  I  had  of  any 
important  change  going  on  in  this  part  of  my 
physical  economy,  was  from  the  reawaking  of  a 
state  of  eye  generally  incident  to  childhood  or 
exalted  states  of  irritability.  I  know  not  whether 
my  reader  is  aware  that  many  children,  perhaps 
most,  have  a  power  of  painting  as  it  were  upon 
the  darkness,  all  sorts  of  phantoms :  in  some  that 
power  is  simply  a  mechanic  affection  of  the  e^^e  ; 
others  have  a  voluntary  or  semi-voluntary  power 
to  dismiss  or  summon  them  ;  or,  as  a  child  once 
said  to  me,  when  I  questioned  him  on  this  matter, 
'  I  can  tell  them  to  go,  and  they  go ;  but  some- 
times they  come  when  I  don't  tell  them  to  come.' 
Whereupon  I  told  him  that  he  had  almost  as  un- 
limited a  command  over  apparitions  as  a  Roman 
centurion  over  his  soldiers."  ^  An  acquaintance 
of  the  author,  who  is  now  between  fifty  and  sixty 
years  of  age,  says  that  in  his  childhood,  after  clos- 
ing his  eyes  at  night  he  could  and  often  did,  by 
an  act  of  volition,  call  troops  of  queer  forms  around 
him.  As  years  passed  on  and  manhood  approached, 
he  lost  the  power  of  subjective  vision,  and  though 
he  has  frequently  tried  since  childhood,  to  peojDle 
the  darkness  in  the  old  way,  he  has  never  been 
able  to  do  so.     The  subject  of  the  fourth  case  of 

1  Confessions,  etc.,  p.  109. 


214  VISIONS. 

the  preceding  series,  a  most  intelligent  observer, 
saj^s  in  her  account :  "  My  earliest  recollections 
are  of  a  life  made  miserable  by  the  daily  compan- 
ionship of  a  crowd  of  dreadful  beings,  visible,  I 
knew,  only  to  myself."  In  her  case  the  cerebral 
condition,  which  induces  visions,  was  so  pro- 
nounced that  her  childhood's  atmosphere  was  in- 
habited with  phantoms,  whether  her  eyelids  were 
lifted  or  closed.  I  retain  myself  at  the  present 
time,  a  vivid  recollection  of  the  sights  which  I 
was  able  to  conjure  up  in  childhood,  in  the  dark- 
ness of  evening  or  night,  by  shutting  my  eyes.  I 
did  not  learn  till  after  pseudopia  had  been  pro- 
duced by  opium,  in  the  manner  previously  de- 
scribed, that  I  possessed  the  power  of  voluntarily 
summoning  such  companions  about  me.  It  was 
only  on  rare  occasions  that  I  could  do  so  by  an 
act  of  volition.  Generally,  after  closing  my  eyes, 
I  was  obliged  to  wait  for  the  phantoms  to  come  of 
themselves.  Since  childhood  I  have  frequently 
endeavored  to  produce  the  same  result,  in  the 
same  way,  but  in  vain.  A  lady  now  over  seventy 
years  of  age,  informs  the  writer  that  she  was 
greatly  troubled  at  night,  during  her  childhood, 
with  involuntary  pseudopia.  For  a  long  time  she 
believed  the  phantoms  were  realities,  and  sought 
to  escape  from  them  by  pressing  her  hands  firmly 
over  both  eyes,  as  the  ostrich  is  said  to  avoid  his 
enemies  by  hiding  his  head  in  the  sand.  As  years 
passed  on  her  j^hantom  power  disappeared,  and 
now  it  exists  only  in  her  memory. 


VISIONS.  215 

It  will  be  noticed  that  this  form  of  pseudopia, 
which  may  be  appropriately  called  the  pseudopia  of 
childhood,  is  of  two  kinds,  voluntary  and  involun- 
tary, and  that  the  latter  predominates  very  largely 
over  the  former.  The  involuntary  sort  is  doubt- 
less what  De  Quincey  calls  "  mechanic "  in  its 
character,  that  is,  produced,  as  muscae  volitantes 
are,  by  changes  in  the  contents  of  the  globe  of  the 
eye,  or  by  automatic  cerebro-visual  action.  The 
voluntary  sort  is,  of  course,  independent  of  any 
mechanical  disturbance  of  the  eyeball,  and  results 
chiefly  from  changes  in  the  cerebral  circulation. 
Both  show  how  easily  the  delicate  nerve  centres  of 
children  may  be  disturbed  ;  and,  what  is  of  more 
importance  to  our  present  purpose,  both  show  that 
the  brain  can  be  made,  without  great  difficulty,  to 
put  together  the  organic  cell-representatives  of 
pictorial  ideas:  for,  although  the  objects  seen  are 
always  of  an  odd,  strange,  indefinite,  and  perhaps 
frightful  character,  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  they 
are  pictorial  and  that  the  brain  produces  them. 
It  is  also  shewn  by  the  evidence  adduced  that 
while  the  most  of  them  are  produced  by  a  process 
of  automatic  cerebral  action,  others  are  the  result 
of  a  process,  into  the  initiation  of  which  volition 
enters  as  a  factor. 

It  is  a  matter  of  surprise  that  this  phantom 
power  of  childhood  has  not  excited  more  interest 
than  it  has  done,  among  psychologists  and  physi- 
ologists. Its  appearance  in  childhood,  when  the 
nerve  centres  are  delicate,  imperfectly  developed, 


216  ^  VISIONS. 

mobile,  and  impressible ;  its  disappearance  in  ma- 
ture years,  when  the  nerve  tissues  are  developed, 
harder,  less  mobile,  and  less  impressible  ;  and  its 
reappearance  at  the  very  close  of  life,  when,  as 
dissolution  approaches,  the  nerve  centres  are  ex- 
ceptionally disturbed,  often  producing  visions  of 
the  dying ;  these  phenomena  are  all  curious,  sig- 
nificant, and  worthy  of  study. 

Evidence  derived  from  the  second  class  of  per- 
sons, or  adults,  as  to  the  power  of  the  will  to  pro- 
duce objective  pseudopia,  is  not  easily  obtained. 
Few  possess  any  such  power,  though  there  may  be 
multitudes  who  pretend  to  it ;  and  those  who  pos- 
sess it  are  neither  fond  of  exercising  it,  nor  of 
being  questioned  with  regard  to  it.  The  subject 
of  Case  VII.,  a  man  whose  large  scientific  attain- 
ments and  careful  intellectual  training  entitle  his 
testimony  to  great  weight,  says,  in  his  report  of  his 
own  visions,  that  he  was  tempted  to  ascertain  if 
he  could  not  produce  them  by  an  act  of  volition, 
and  adds  :  — 

"  I  was  particularly  fond  of  statuary,  and,  after  a  few 
trials,  succeeded  in  producing  visions  of  statues  by 
simply  fixing  my  imagination  strongly  upon  the  mem- 
ory of  what  I  had  seen,  or  upon  what  occurred  to  me, 
as  a  good  subject  for  groups.  I  repeated  the  experi- 
ment, however,  but  few  times,  fearing  it  might  lead  to 
some  injurious  result." 

Goethe  could  at  will  produce,  for  his  own  study 
and  examination,  subjective  copies  of  pictures  and 
works  of  art  which  he  had  seen.  He  describes  his 
faculty  of  doing  this  in  the  following  language  :  — 


VISIONS.  217 

"  As  I  eutered  my  sister's  house  for  dinner,  I  could 
scarcely  trust  my  eyes,  for  I  believed  I  saw  before  me 
a  picture  by  Ostade  so  distinctly  that  it  might  have 
been  hanging  in  a  gallery.  I  saw  here  actualized  the 
position  of  objects,  the  light  and  shade  and  brownish 
tints  and  exquisite  harmony,  and  all  which  is  so  much 
admired  in  his  pictures.  This  was  the  first  time  that  I 
discovered,  in  so  high  a  degree,  the  gift,  which  I  after- 
wards vised  with  more  complete  consciousness,  of  bring- 
ing before  me  the  characteristics  of  this  or  that  artist, 
to  whose  works  I  had  devoted  great  attention.  This 
faculty  has  given  me  great  enjoyment,  but  it  has  also  in- 
creased the  desire  of  zealously  indulging,  from  time  to 
time,  the  exercise  of  a  talent,  which  nature  seems  to 
have  promised  me."  ^ 

Nicolai  of  Berlin  strenuously  endeavored  to  in- 
duce pseudopia  by  an  act  of  volition,  bu6  never 
succeeded  in  doing  more  than  to  bring  before  him- 
self what  he  called  phantoms  ;  that  is,  he  produced 
ideational  cerebral  pictures,  but  could  not,  as 
Goethe  did,  project  them  into  space  before  him. 
Nevertheless,  the  testimony  of  so  accurate  an  ob- 
server as  Nicolai  to  the  fact  that  he  could,  by 
voluntary  effort,  excite  or  modify  to  any  extent, 
hov^ever  little,  his  visual  cerebral  apparatus,  is  im- 
portant. 

The  evidence  presented,  that  volition  is  a  factor 
in  the  production  of  pseudopia,  and  may  initiate 
pseudopia,  is  cumulative,  and  not  easily  set  aside. 
It  is  threefold.     First :  the  inference,  that  as  voli- 

^  Aus   vieinem   Leben   Wahrheit   und  Dichiung,   Achtes    Buch, 
Goethe's  sammtliche  Werke,  Stuttgart,  1 863. 


218  VISIONS. 

tion  influences,  directly  or  indirectly,  by  means  of 
communicciting  nerves,  every  part  of  the  organ- 
ization where  its  action  can  be  traced,  it  must 
also  be  connected  with  the  intracranial  mechan- 
ism of  vision,  and  have  some  influence  over  that, 
though  its  action  cannot  be  traced  there  directly. 
Second :  the  pseudopia  of  children  demonstrates 
in  them  an  influence  over  it  of  volition  ;  and 
third  :  the  assertion  of  two  careful  and  unpreju- 
diced persons  that  they  could  produce,  and  had 
produced,' pseudopia  in  themselves  by  an  act  of 
volition.  These  facts  warrant  the  conclusion  that 
the  will  can  influence  the  production  of  visions. 

Before  making  any  practical  application  of  the 
physiological  and  other  principles,  which  have 
hitherto  occupied  our  attention,  it  would  be  well 
to  present  a  brief  summary  of  the  course  of 
thought  which  has  been  followed.  The  argument 
is  this. 

1.  Such  a  number  and  variety  of  persons,  every- 
where and  in  all  ages,  have  asserted  their  belief 
in  visions,  and  have  maintained,  with  every  rea- 
sonable appearance  and  proof  of  sincerity,  their 
ability  to  see  visions,  and  the  fact  of  having  done 
so,  that  a  presumption  is  raised  in  favor  of  the 
truth  of  their  assertion ;  and,  consequently,  science 
is  obliged  either  to  disprove  the  appearance  of 
visions  altogether,  or  to  give  a  rational  explana- 
tion of  such  phenomena. 

2.  Eight  cases  of  pseudopia,  occurring  in  per- 
sons of  education  and  intelligence,  carefully  ob- 


VISIONS.  219 

served  and  recognized  by  the  subjects  of  them 
as  pseudopia,  and  recorded  in  this  essay,  con- 
firm the  presumption  raised  by  the  experience  of 
manlvind,  and  demonstrate  the  fact  that  visions 
occur. 

3.  The  key  to  the  explanation  of  pseudopia,  or 
visions,  is  to  be  found  by  studying  and  compre- 
hending orthopia,  or  the  process  of  normal  vision. 
Sight  is  not  a  function  of  the  eye  alone,  but  of  a 
complex  and  delicate  apparatus  of  which  the 
greater  part  is  lodged  within  the  cranium. 

4.  This  apparatus  is  composed  of  sections,  each 
having  its  own  centre,  and  being  connected  with 
the  other  centres  by  inter-communicating  fibres, 
and  in  correspondence  with  the  higher  cerebral 
centres  of  perception,  ideation,  and  volition. 

5.  Perception  of  visible  objects,  or  consciousness 
of  seeing,  does  not  take  place  in  the  eye.  This 
begins  in  the  lowest  of  the  intracranial  visual  cen- 
tres ;  and  in  each  ascending  centre  becomes  of  a 
higher  character.  Perception  varies  with  the  per- 
ceiving centre,  and  is  highest  in  the  frontal  lobes, 
where  it  becomes  apperception  or  thought. 

6.  Some  account  of  the  reflex  or  automatic 
action  of  the  nervous  system  is  given,  so  as  to 
show  how  each  ganglionic  nerve  centre  is  capable 
of  independent  action,  and  has  its  own  conscious- 
ness without  self  consciousness. 

7.  The  visual  apparatus  is  normally  operated 
by  the  stimulus  of  rays  of  light,  falling  on  the 
retina  from   a  visible  object,  and  propagating  an 


220  VISIONS. 

action  to  each  centre  above,  till  the  frontal  lobes 
are  reached. 

8.  In  abnormal  conditions,  stimuli  originating 
in  the  brain,  without  the  presence  of  any  external 
object,  may  excite  any  of  the  centres  of  the  visual 
apparatus,  and  set  the  process  of  vision  going 
from  that  point. 

9.  Every  object,  making  an  impression  on  the 
brain  or  visual  apparatus,  leaves  an  organic  trace 
there,  vrhich  may  be  reproduced  at  an  indefinite 
period  afterwards  by  cerebral  action. 

10.  Pictures  of  external  objects  are  not  trans- 
mitted from  the  eye  to  the  brain,  but  only  visual 
reports  of  such  objects.  These  reports  are  trans- 
mitted from  centre  to  centre  (telegrams),  each 
centre  employing  for  that  purpose  its  own  cell- 
groups  and  other  contents. 

11.  Visual  sensory  impressions  are  carried  up 
to  the  frontal  lobes,  and  there  translated  into 
ideas.  In  rare  instances,  ideas  may  send  down  an 
influence,  and  be  translated  into  sensory  impres- 
sions in  a  lower  centre. 

12.  Hence  seeing  is  a  matter  of  the  brain,  and 
not  of  the  eye ;  the  eye  only  transmits  impres- 
sions. 

13.  The   brain   cells,  acting   under   subjective 
stimuli,  may  arrange  themselves  in  such  a  way  as 
to  represent  a  vision,  that  is  sight,  when  no  ex 
ternal  object,  corresponding  to  it,  exists. 

14.  Various  influences,  as  habit,  association,  at- 
tention, emotion,  disease,  blood  changes,  and  voli- 


VISIONS.  221 

tion  may  put  the  visual  apparatus  in  motion  and 
produce  visions. 

The  annexed  diagram,  in  which  the  visual 
nerve  centres  are  arranged  without  any  regard  to 
their  actual  anatomical  position,  and  in  which 
other  centres  are  hypothetically  arranged,  will 
enable  the  reader  to  understand,  better  than  any 
description  can  do,  the  mechanism  of  vision,  as  it 
has  here  been  explained. 

Rays  of  light  from  a  visible  object,  falling  on 
the  retina  of  the  eye  (No.  1),  set  in  motion  the 
machinery  of  that  centre.  The  result  is  a  visual 
message  which  is  transmitted  to  the  tubercula 
quadrigemina  and  optic  thalami,  or  centre  No.  2. 
In  this  centre,  the  message  is  coordinated  with 
the  voluntary  muscular  system,  classified  and 
transmitted  to  the  angular  gyrus,  or  centre  No.  3. 
In  this  centre,  the  visual  message  is  translated 
into  sensory  pictorial  cell-groups,  representing  the 
details  of  individuals,  houses,  trees,  flowers,  ani- 
mals, faces,  expressions,  and  all  the  panorama  of 
life.  Thus  elaborated,  the  message  is  transmitted 
to  the  ideational  centre  No.  4. 

In  No.  4  the  sensory  messages  or  pictorial  rep- 
resentations are  transformed  into  ideas,  as  sen- 
sation in  a  spinal  ganglion  is  transformed  into 
motion.  The  visual  ideas  are  transmitted  to  No. 
5,  the  workshop  of  intellection  or  apperception. 

In  No.  5,  the  visual  ideas  are  examined,  com- 
pared and  judged  ;  and  the  results  communicated 
to  the  centre  of  volition,  the  residence  of  the  Ego. 


Fig.  4. 


9  \jS^mo£ion, 


'Vaso'JItifov 


VISIONS.  223 

The  hypothetical  centres  of  attention,  habit, 
association,  emotion,  and  sensation,  numbered  on 
the  diagram  6,  7,  8,  9,  and  10,  are  in  constant 
and  close  communication  with  each  other,  with 
the  centres  of  the  visual  apparatus,  and  with  all 
the  cerebral  centres.  Avenues  of  reciprocal  com- 
munication are  thus  opened  between  all  parts  of 
the  brain,  by  means  of  internuncial  nerve  fibres. 

The  vaso-motor-centre.  No.  11,  by  its  control 
of  the  calibre  of  the  arterioles,  regulates  the  sup- 
ply of  blood,  so  that  more  or  less  blood  is  fur- 
nished on  demand  to  any  one  of  the  centres,  or  to 
all  of  them,  or  to  the  whole  bi'ain. 

No  special  centre  is  assigned  to  memory,  for 
each  organ,  or  centre,  or  faculty,  to  use  a  meta- 
physical term,  has  its  own  memory.  Each  cell 
makes  and  keeps  its  own  record. 

The  centre  of  volition.  No.  12,  is  in  connection 
with  every  organ,  centre  and  cell,  of  the  cerebro- 
spinal system.  All  report  to  it.  It  acts  with 
greater  or  less  energy  on  all. 

Explanation  op  Diagram.  —  1,  The  Eye.  2,  Tubercula  Quadrigemina. 
3,  Angular  Gyrus.  4,  Ideational  Visual  Centre.  5,  Centre  of  Intellection  or 
Apperception.  6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  are  the  Hypothetical  centres  of  attention,  habit, 
association,  emotion,  and  common  sensation  (sensorium  commune).  11,  Vaso- 
motor centre  of  cerebral  blood  supply.  12,  Centre  of  Volition.  The  dotted 
line  indicates  the  connection  of  all  the  centres  with  volition.  The  arrows  in- 
dicate the  course  of  visual  rays,  aa',  bb',  cc',  dd',  ee',  nerve  fibres  connect- 
ing the  centres  with  each  other. 


224  VISIONS. 


PAET  II. 


The  considerations  presented  in  the  first  part 
of  this  essay  have  prepared  the  way  for  a  rational 
and  satisfactory  explanation  of  all  forms  of  pseud- 
opia,  and  to  some  extent  have  anticipated  that 
explanation.  They  have  also  prepared  the  way 
for  an  application  of  the  principles  here  ex- 
pounded, to  medicine,  legal  medicine,  and  psychol- 
ogy, and  to  some  of  the  demands  upon  the  faith 
of  mankind,  made  by  religion  and  spiritualism  and 
individual  enthusiasts  —  visionists. 

/The  key  to  an  explanation  of  pseudopia  is  the 
faftt,  which  has  been  repeatedly  stated  and  em- 
phasized in  these  pages,  that  sight  is  not  a  func- 
tion of  the  eyes  but  of  the  brain.  Human  sight 
is  not  accomplished  till  sensory  impressions  are 
transformed  into  ideas,  and  this  is  done  in  the 
hemispheres.  When  this  is  done  —  when  the  or- 
ganic basis  of  visual  ideas  is  formed  there,  seeing 
takes  place,  whether  there  is  any  corresponding 
external  object  or  not.  A  vision  is  produced 
whenever  the  cell  groups,  indicating  that  vision  — 
its  hieroglyphic  or  cipher  —  are  formed  in  the 
brain,  whether  they  are  formed  normally,  by  the 
stimulus  of  light  waves  from  an  external  object, 
or  abnormally,  by  a  stimulus  initiated  intracra- 
nially. 


VISIONS.  225 

There  appear  to  be  four  ways  by  which  visions 
may  be  induced,  of  which  three  are  pointed  out 
by  the  philosophic  observer,  who,  himself  the  sub- 
ject of  one  of  the  preceding  cases,  derived  his  con- 
clusions from  his  own  experience.  The  four  ways 
are  these.  First,  the  normal  and  ordinary  way, 
by  which  waves  of  light  from  a  visible  object 
falling  on  the  retina  of  the  eye  (Fig.  4,  No.  1) 
set  the  whole  visual  apparatus  in  motion,  in  the 
manner  already  described,  producing  sensory  vis- 
ion in  the  angular  gyri,  and  ideated  vision  higher 
wp.  The  movements  of  the  visual  apparatus, 
vibrating  along  the  nerve  fibres,  as  roughly  indi- 
cated by  arrows  in  the  same  figure,  act  simulta- 
neously on  the  centres  of  attention,  association, 
habit,  emotion,  volition,  and  the  like.  Second, 
an  abnormal  and  simple  automatic  way  by  which 
a  stimulus  from  without  (objective),  as  a.  shadow, 
or  a  stimulus  from  within  (subjective),  as  opium, 
striking  when  objective,  the  retina  of  the  eye, 
when  subjective,  one  or  more  of  the  intracranial 
centres  (Fig.  4,  Nos.  2,  3,  or  4),  initiates  a  custom- 
ary sort  of  motion  in  the  visual  apparatus,  which 
determines  the  apparatus  to  produce  of  itself, 
automatically,  the  cell-groups  and  modifications, 
that  is  to  go  through  an  habitual  action,  repre- 
senting some  external  object.  By  this  process  a 
vision  is  produced.  The  process  is  like  the  au- 
tomatic walking  of  a  somnambulist,  when  a  sound, 
or  movement,  or  dream,  has  started  him  upon  his 
unconscious   peregrinations.       Third,   an    abnor- 

15 


226  VISIONS. 

mal  and  complex  automatic  way,  by  which  at- 
tention, association,  habit,  emotion,  volition,  and 
cognate  forces  (Fig.  4,  Nos.  6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  and 
12),  stimulated  subjectively  or  objectively,  play 
upon  the  visual  apparatvis,  till  they  compel  one  or 
more  of  its  centres  into  activity.  When  this  is 
accomplished,  the  automatic  action  of  the  visual 
apparatus  reinforces  the  automatic  action  of  the 
forces  just  mentioned,  and  under  their  combined 
influence,  cell-groups  and  modifications  are  finally 
formed,  which,  being  the  organic  basis  of  a  pre- 
viously known  object,  person,  or  scene,  vision  is 
produced.  As  soon  as  the  subjective  vision  is 
produced  the  object  or  person  represented  is  pro- 
jected into  space,  and  seen  as  if  present  there. 
In  this  way,  intense  emotion  brings  out  under 
favorable  conditions  and  before  impressible  per- 
sons, the  faces  and  forms  of  the  dead.  Fourth,  an 
abnormal  and  volitional  way,  by  which  volition 
(Fig.  4,  No.  12),  stimulated  to  the  highest  de- 
gree, and  summoning  to  its  aid  fixed  attention, 
association,  habit,  emotion,  and  all  other  forces  at 
its  command,  plays  with  its  utmost  energy  upon 
the  angular  gyrus  (Fig.  4,  No.  3),  or  some  other 
centre,  and  drives  its  machinery  into  operation. 
If  this  can  be  accomplished,  vision  is  accomplished. 
The  gift  which  Goethe  said  nature  bestowed  upon 
him,  by  which  he  was  able  to  reproduce,  volun- 
tarily, familiar  pictures  and  project  them  into 
space  before  his  eyes,  is  an  illustration  of  this 
rare  form  of  pseudopia.     These  four  sorts  of  vis- 


VISIONS.  227 

ions  may  be  appropriately  designated  as  follows  : 
(1.)  orthopia;  (2.)  simple  automatic  pseudopia ; 
(3.)  complex  automatic  pseudopia;  (4.)  volitional 
pseudopia. 

The  first  of  the  preceding  series  of  cases,  the 
one  in  which  pseudopia  occurred  in  connection 
with  delirium  tremens,  belongs  to  the  class  of 
complex,  automatic  pseudopia.  The  subject  of 
it  saw,  it  will  be  remembered,  during  convales- 
cence, in  the  daytime,  and  in  the  presence  of  the 
writer,  a  black  dog,  which,  standing  on  a  bureau, 
leaped  upon  the  floor  and  disappeared.  At  an- 
other time,  he  mistook  his  wife  for  a  burglarj 
On  both  occasions,  he  recognized  the  subjective 
character  of  his  visions.  So  natural  were  the  ap- 
pearances, however,  that  if  his  previous  experi- 
ence had  not  convinced  him  of  the  untrustwor- 
thiness  of  his  eyes,  he  would  have  entertained  no 
doubt  as  to  the  presence  of  a  dog  at  one  time,  and 
a  burglar  at  another. 

The  physiological  explanation  of  his  visions  is 
not  difficult.  He  had  taken  alcoholic  drinks  suf- 
ficiently long,  and  in  sufficient  quantity  to  pro- 
duce delirium  tremens.  This  affection  does  not 
come  on  after  one  potation,  however  large,  or 
after  several  potations.  It  appears  only  after 
alcohol  has  been  taken  continuously  for  a  consid- 
erable period,  and  when,  as  a  result  of  thus  soak- 
ing the  brain  in  spirits,  an  organic  change  has 
taken  place  in  the  cerebral  tissues.  All  the  nerve 
cells  are  affected.     The  derangement  of  the  mo- 


228  VISIONS. 

tor  centres  is  shown  by  tremors,  muscular  weak- 
ness, and  locomotor  disturbance  ;  that  of  the  au- 
ditory centres,  by  unearthly  noises  and  strange 
cries,  which  beset  the  victim;  that  of  the  olfac- 
tory and  gustatory  centres,  by  whims  of  smell  and 
taste ;  that  of  the  ideo-motor  centres,  by  phanta- 
sies ;  and  that  of  the  visual  centres,  by  subjective 
visions.  Gi'oups  of  cells  and  cell  modifications, 
with  which  the  brain  has  long  been  familiar,  are 
thrown  confusedly  together  in  the  brain  of  the 
drunkard,  upon  the  least  hint  afforded  by  the 
character  of  his  surroundings,  and  become  the 
organic  representatives  of  visions,  which  are  as 
confused,  unmeaning,  and  strange,  as  the  cell 
groups  themselves.  "  The  perceptions,"  says 
Hammond,  "  the  emotions,  the  intellect,  and  the 
will  are  all  implicated  to  a  greater  or  less  ex- 
tent." ^  Such  was  the  condition  of  Mr.  C.'s 
brain.  In  this  condition,  rays  of  light  from  some 
ornament  on  his  bureau,  falling  on  the  retina, 
called  out  in  one  of  his  visual  centres,  probably 
in  the  angular  gyri,  cells  which  were  part  of  a 
sensory  group,  stowed  away  in  his  brain,  as  the 
representative  of  a  familiar  black  dog.  These 
cells,  aided  by  habit  and  association,  called  around 
them  other  cells,  accustomed  to  cluster  together, 
whenever  the  black  dog  appeared.  Soon,  by 
action  and  reaction,  the  representative  group  was 
formed,  and  consequently  the  appearance  of  a  dog 
telegraphed  to  the  centres  above,  which  accepted 

1  Diseases  of  the  Nervous  System,  p.  851. 


VISIONS.  229 

the  report  as  correct.  The  picture  of  the  animal 
was  tlien  projected  into  space,  and  the  vision  ac- 
complished. By  a  similar  process,  his  wife  be- 
came a  burglar.  He  had  been  a  soldier,  and  had 
commanded  troops  in  active  service  for  years. 
Life  of  the  camp,  the  march,  and  the  battle  had 
stored  away  in  the  recesses  of  his  brain  numerous 
sensory  cell  groups,  the  organic  souvenirs  of  ugly 
faces,  rascals,  and  villains.  Something  about  his 
wife's  dress  started  up  the  first  cell,  or  cell  group, 
belonging  to  some  scamp  he  had  seen  ;  that  cell 
started  up  a  companion  one,  and  soon  the  whole 
thing  went  of  itself,  so  that  the  vision  of  the  burg- 
lar was  complete.  The  elements  of  Mr.  C.'s  alco- 
holized brain  were  in  an  unstable  condition  readily 
thrown  into  strange  and  unnatural  groups,  which 
were  as  readily  dissolved  again.  His  will  had  as 
little  control  over  them  as  over  his  locomotor  ap- 
paratus. His  sensory  and  ideational  and  volitional 
cells  were  as  weak  and  shaky  as  his  motor  ones. 

The  pseudopia  of  Mr.  C,  due  to  poisoning  of 
his  brain  by  alcohol,  not  only  illustrates  one  of 
the  results  of  alcoholic  poisoning,  but  may  be 
taken  as  an  illustration  of  a  similar  cerebral  con- 
dition, induced  by  the  illegitimate  use  of  a  num- 
ber of  other  drugs.  The  visions  of  opium,  ether, 
chloroform,  cannabis  Indica,  belladonna,  and  kin- 
dred articles,  of  which  the  cerebral  action  has 
been  noticed,  belong  to  the  class  of  complex  auto- 
matic pseudopia.  Although  these  agents  possess 
an  elective  action  for  one  part  or  function  of  the 


230  VISIONS. 

intra-cranial  mass  in  preference  to  other  parts  or 
functions,  yet  tliey  affect  all  parts  somewhat. 
They  appear  to  act  with  peculiar  energy  on  the 
visual  and  ideational  centres,  and  also  to  disturb 
other  parts,  so  that  the  force  with  which  volition, 
attention,  sensation,  habit,  association,  and  emotion 
play  upon  the  visual  mechanism  and  frontal  lobes 
is  sometimes  increased,  sometimes  diminished,  and 
always  irregular. 

There  are  two  or  three  points  with  regard  to 
the  vision  power  of  these  drugs,  which  were  not 
mentioned  when  they  were  previously  considered, 
and  which  may  be  appropriately  described  here. 

The  physiological  action  of  opium  is  properly 
divided  by  those  who  have  investigated  it,  into  two 
stages  ;  a  primary  stage  of  stimulation,  and  a  sec- 
ondary stage  of  depression.  In  the  primary  stage, 
the  functions  of  the  nervous  system,  and  especially 
those  of  the  cerebrum,  are  exalted  ;  in  the  second- 
ary stage  the  same  functions  are  depressed.  The 
primary  stage  is  the  delight  of  the  opium  eater ; 
the  secondary  stage  is  the  one  chiefly  employed  by 
therapeutists.  During  the  period  of  exaltation, 
the  visual  machinery  and  ideo-motor  apparatus  are 
stimulated  to  extraordinary  activity,  and  some- 
times produce  extraordinary  results.  The  action 
is  so  clearly  automatic,  that  the  opium  lover  seeks 
to  retire  alone,  by  himself,  and  watch  and  enjoy 
the  shifting  movements  of  his  cerebral  panorama, 
as  if  they  were  the  scenes  of  a  play.  The  writ- 
er's opium  experience  in  childhood,  to  which  ref- 


VISIONS,  231 

erence  was  made  in  connection  with  the  report  of 
Mr.  C.'s  case,  confirms  this  statement.  He  re- 
calls distinctly  the  passive  condition  in  which  he 
used  to  lie  and  wait  for  the  show,  as  if  he  were 
only  a  spectator.  De  Quincey,  whose  account  of 
the  action  of  opium  should  not,  as  was  previously 
hinted,  be  trusted  too  implicitly,  vividly  and  ac- 
curately describes,  in  the  following  language,  the 
power  of  opium  to  reproduce,  automatically,  the 
past :  — 

"  As  the  creative  state  of  the  eye  increased,  a  sympathy 
seemed  to  arise  between  the  waking  and  the  dreaming 
states  of  the  brain  in  one  point,  —  that  whatsoever  I 
happened  to  call  up  and  to  trace  by  a  voluntary  act  uison 
the  darkness  was  very  apt  to  transfer  itself  to  my  dreams ; 
so  that  I  feared  to  exercise  this  faculty  ;  for,  as  Midas 
turned  all  things  to  gold,  that  yet  baffled  his  hopes  and 
defrauded  his  human  desires,  so  whatsoever  things  cap- 
able of  being  visually  represented  I  did  but  think  of  in 
the  darkness,  immediately  shaped  themselves  into  phan- 
toms of  the  eye ;  and,  by  a  process  apparently  no  less 
inevitable,  when  thus  once  traced  in  faint  and  visionary 
colors,  like  writings  in  sympathetic  ink,  they  were  drawn 
out,  by  the  fierce  chemistry  of  my  dreams,  into  insuffer- 
able splendor  that  fretted  my  heart." 

From  this  exaltation,  the  primary  stage  of  the 
action  of  opium,  he  passed  to  the  secondary  one 
of  depression,  which  is  thus  described  :  — 

"  For  this,  and  all  other  changes  in  my  dreams,  were 
accompanied  by  deep-seated  anxiety  and  gloomy  mel- 
ancholy, such  as  are  wholly  incommunicable  by  woi'ds. 


232  VISIONS. 

I  seemed  every  night  to  descend  —  not  metaphorically, 
but  literally  to  descend  —  into  chasms  and  sunless  abys- 
ses, depths  below  depths,  from  which  it  seemed  hopeless 
that  I  could  ever  reascend.  Nor  did  I,  by  waking,  feel 
that  I  had  reascended.  This  I  do  not  dwell  upon  ;  be- 
cause the  state  of  gloom  which  attended  these  gor- 
,geous  spectacles,  amounting  at  least  to  utter  darkness, 
as  of  some  suicidal  despondency,  cannot  be  approached 
by  words."  ^ 

The  importance  of  this  statement  consists  in  the 
distinctness  with  which  it  brings  into  view  the 
automatic  action  of  the  visual  and  ideational  ap- 
paratus, and  so  far  confirms  the  explanation  which 
has  been  given,  of  Mr.  C.'s  vision  of  the  dog  and 
burglar,  an  explanation  applicable  to  all  similar 
visions. 

The  explanation  of  the  intense  enjoyment  which 
some  derive  from  opium  eating  may  be  found  in 
its  stimulating  the  creative  power  of  the  brain. 
F.  W.  Faber  says,  in  one  of  his  letters,  "  The 
greatest  pleasure  of  life  arises  from  the  felt  sense  of 
power  :  the  greatest  intellectual  pleasure  is  the 
sense  of  intellectual  power:  for  creative  energy  is 
clearly  the  most  luxurious,  and  it  is  power  solely." 
This  is  not  the  language  of  exaggeration.  The 
creative  force  which  opium  stimulates  is  that  of 
re-creating  the  past ;  and  in  doing  so,  it  yields  a 
pleasure  second  only  to  that  which  attends  the  exer- 
cise of  original  creative  energy.     Let  no  one  im- 

1  Confessions,  etc.,  ■^■p.  109-10. 

2  Life  and  Letters  of  F.  W.  Faber,  p.  45. 


VISIONS.  233 

agine,  however,  that  by  means  of  opium  he  can 
extract  ii'om  his  brain  anything  beyond  what  is 
native  to  it,  a  fact  which  did  not  escape  the  notice 
of  the  brilliant  author  of  the  "  Confessions."  A 
butcher,  who  takes  to  opium,  will  probably  dream 
of  oxen,  and  see  pictures  of  beef ;  a  poet  will  be 
transported  to  the  dreamy  splendors  of  Xanadu 
and  Kubla  Khan.  Wind  touching  an  ^olian 
harp  will  call  forth,  not  the  notes  of  an  organ, 
flute,  or  viol,  but  the  strains  of  a  harp.  Blood 
charged  with  opium,  and  flowing  through  the 
delicate  chords  of  the  brain,  will  not  make  them 
vibrate  with  the  ideas  of  Plato,  Shakespeare, 
Goethe,  or  Emerson,  but  only  with  those  of  the 
experimenter. 

The  reason  for  dwelling  at  considerable  length, 
in  the  first  part  of  this  essay,  upon  the  reflex,  or 
automatic  power  of  the  nervous  system  is  now 
apparent.  It  was  necessary  to  acquire  a  clear  and 
definite  notion  of  that  power,  and  its  modus  oper- 
andi, before  it  could  be  shown  that  the  visual 
centre  and  other  centres  of  special  sense  are  obe- 
dient to  it,  and  that  it  is  capable  of  explaining  the 
appearance  and  mechanism  of  visions.  The  whole 
visual  apparatus  may  be  regarded,  from  this  point 
of  view,  as  a  single  ganglionic  nerve  centre.  In 
orthopia,  a  visual  stimulus,  consisting  of  the  motion 
of  waves  of  light,  impinges  upon  it  from  without, 
thi'ough  the  eye,  objectively,  and  is  transformed 
into  sensory  and  ideational  pictures ;  and  these  into 
ideas,  a  reflex  action,  automatic,  just  as  sensation, 


234  VISIONS. 

transformed  by  a  spinal  ganglion  into  motion,  is  a 
reflex  action.  In  pseuclopia  the  only  difference  is 
that  the  visual  stimulus,  which  impinges  on  the 
visual  apparatus,  and  causes  the  transformation  of 
sensox-y  into  ideational  action,  comes  from  within 
the  head.  In  both  cases,  reflex  machinery  is  put 
into  operation,  and  is  worked  by  ganglionic  nerve 
power.  In  Mr.  C.'s  case,  his  alcoholized  visual 
centre,  catching  a  shadowy  hint,  as  previously  de- 
scribed, from  without,  and  aided  by  an  alcoholized 
brain,  transformed  the  hint  by  reflex  action  into  a 
black  dog. 

Allusion  has  been  frequently  made  throughout 
these  pages  to  sensory  and  ideational  pictures. 
They  are  not  the  same,  and  it  is  important  to  ac- 
quire a  distinct  notion  of  the  difference  between 
them.  The  following  incident  will  illustrate  the 
difference  better  than  a  formal  description.  Some 
months  ago,  I  had  occasion  to  take  an  average 
dose  of  laudanum,  at  night,  for  the  relief  of  pain. 
The  desired  relief  was  obtained.  I  was  surprised 
the  next  morning,  however,  to  see,  on  awaking, 
hanging  up  on  the  wall  of  my  chamber,  near  the 
ceiling,  a  mask  or  masked  face  of  very  large  pro- 
portions. After  a  moment's  amazement  I  re- 
membered the  previous  night's  dose  of  laudanum, 
and  ray  childhood's  paregoric  visions,  and  recog- 
nized in  the  mask  one  of  the  pranks  of  opium,  but 
I  had  not  time  to  get  more  than  one  good  look  at 
the  object  before  it  vanished.  During  the  day  I 
tried  in  vain  to  make  out   what   the  mask  was 


VISIONS.  235 

which  opium  had  picked  out  of  my  past  experience. 
I  could  not  remember  ever  to  have  seen  its  like. 
Reflecting  upon  the  pseudopia  the  next  day,  I  en- 
deavored to  recall  it  in  all  its  details.  I  could  re- 
member how  it  looked,  and  bring  before  me  a 
clear  idea  of  it,  but  I  could  not  project  it  into  space. 
While  doing  this,  it  suddenly  flashed  upon  me  that 
it  was  the  Greek  mask  of  Tragedy  which  had  ob- 
truded itself  into  my  field  of  subjective  vision, 
and  so  it  clearly  was.  The  first  picture  —  the 
pseudopia  —  was  a  sensory  one;  the  second,  which 
memory  gathered  up,  was  an  ideational  one.  The 
organic  basis  of  the  first  was  doubtless  a  group  of 
long  disused  cells  in  the  angular  gyri ;  the  organic 
basis  of  the  second,  a  group  of  cells  in  the  frontal 
lobes.  The  sensory  picture  was  projected  into 
space  ;  the  ideational  one  remained  an  idea.  The 
probable  explanation  of  this  pseudopia  is,  that  in 
the  early  morning  light,  the  brain  still  muddled 
and  unstable  in  consequence  of  exposure  to  opium, 
a  ray  of  light  shot  from  a  figure  on  the  wall  paper 
to  the  retina,  which  stimulated  the  visual  appara- 
tus to  reproduce  the  cell  group  of  a  mask,  seen  in  a 
theatre  or  elsewhere,  and  that  group  automatically 
called  out  cells  enough  to  complete  the  picture. 

Subjective  sights  and  sounds,  flashes  of  light 
and  strange  noises,  often  occur  in  epilepsy.  They 
commonly  immediately  precede  an  approaching 
paroxysm,  and  give  warning  of  it.  In  rare  in- 
stances true  pseudopia  is  manifested,  and  when 
such  is  the  case,  the  patient  can  only  be  persuaded 


236  VISIONS. 

with  great  difficulty  to  distrust  his  own  eyes.  It 
is  not  long  since  an  epileptic  was  found  in  Eng- 
land, quietly  sleeping  off  a  convulsive  paroxysm 
on  a  public  road,  by  the  side  of  a  man  he  had 
killed.  Why  the  crime  was  committed  could  not 
be  ascertained,  but  it  is  probable  that  the  mur- 
derer was  deceived  by  pseudopia,  preceding  a  con- 
vulsion, into  the  commission  of  the  deed.  The 
visions  of  epilepsy,  like  those  of  delirium  tremens, 
evidently  belong  to  the  class  of  complex  auto- 
matic pseudopia.  They  are  well  illustrated  by 
the  second  of  the  preceding  series  of  cases,  in 
which  there  were  visions  of  a  man  on  horseback 
in  a  flower  garden,  of  flowing  water,  soldiers, 
flocks  of  animals,  and  other  objects.  The  process 
by  which  these  visions  were  produced  is  not  so 
apparent  as  in  the  first  case,  but  a  shrewd  guess 
may  be  made  with  regard  to  it. 

The  pathology  of  epilepsy  is  not  yet  well  as- 
certained. Sometimes  it  results  from  the  reflex 
disturbance  of  eccentric  irritation,  like  teething, 
or  the  presence  of  foreign  matters  in  the  alimen- 
tary^ canal ;  sometimes,  from  an  irritant  within 
the  cranium,  as  a  spiculum  of  bone  ;  and  some- 
times from  disease  of  the  highest  nerve  centres. 
It  frequently  occurs,  however,  when  nothing  can 
be  discovered  after  death  to  account  for  it.  Re- 
cent researches  indicate,  if  they  do  not  demon- 
strate, that  the  vaso- motor  nerves,  by  their  in- 
fluence in  suddenly  and  temporarily  producing 
ana3mia,  or  hyperemia,  of  the  sensorium,  lead  to 


VISIONS.  237 

epileptic  convulsions.  Such  sudden  disturbance 
of  the  sensorial  circulation  would  be  sufficient  to 
account  for  the  visions  of  epilepsy,  as  well  as  for 
epilepsy  itself.  Irritation  of  the  vaso-motor  cen- 
tre, by  producing  contraction  of  the  arterioles, 
would  induce  ansemia  of  the  sensorium,  conges- 
tion, or  sufficient  pressure  upon  the  same  centre 
would  lead  to  an  opposite  state  of  the  arterioles, 
and  consequently  to  hypergemia  of  the  sensorium. 
In  both  cases  the  blood  supply,  the  vast  impor- 
tance of  which  has  been  pointed  out,  would  be  sud- 
denly and  seriously  changed.  The  influence  of 
this  can  be  scarcely  overestimated.  The  intimate 
anatomical  connection  of  the  visual  apparatus 
with  the  sensorium  is  such  that  whatever  affects 
the  circulation  of  the  latter,  reacts  at  once  upon 
that  of  the  former.  It  would  be  strange,  when 
any  such  disturbance  occurs,  if  now  and  then  a 
group  of  old  visual  cells  should  not  be  thrown  up 
into  the  field  of  subjective  vision,  and  attract  to 
itself  associated  groups,  which  would  excite  the 
automatic  action  of  the  visual  machinery  to  pro- 
duce a  complete  vision.  In  this  case,  sensory  pic- 
tures rather  than  ideational  ones  would  be  formed, 
and  would  be  likely  to  appear  and  disappear  with 
changes  in  the  circulation. 

The  doctrine  that  perception  is  centric,  and 
not  eccentric,  which  is  here  applied  to  the  visual 
apparatus  in  explanation  of  the  appearance  of 
visions,  is  not  confined  in  its  application  to  that 
apparatus.     On  the  contrary,  it  is  the  application 


238  VISIONS. 

of  a  general  physiological  law  to  the  process  of 
vision.  It  is  not  unusual,  for  example,  for  an  in- 
dividual to  complain,  weeks,  months,  or  years  after 
the  amputation  of  a  limb,  foot,  or  hand,  of  pain 
in  the  amputated  part.  The  sensation  has  been 
so  strong  in  some  instances,  that  a  foot  or  hand 
which  had  been  laid  peacefully  away  has  been 
dug  up,  in  order  to  ascertain  if  there  were  not 
something  torturing  it.  The  accepted  and  dem- 
onstrated explanation  of  this  physiological  phe- 
nomenon is  the  same  as  the  preceding  one  of 
pseudopia.  When  pain  occurs  in  a  toe  or  finger, 
the  fact  is  telegraphed  to  the  spinal  centre  of  the 
affected  member,  and  from  thence  to  the  appro- 
priate cerebral  centre.  Perception  of  the  pain 
takes  place  in  the  brain  and  is  projected  to  the 
periphery.  Let  T.,  S.,  and  C.  represent  the  toe, 
its  spinal  centre  and  cerebral  centre  resjDectively. 
Pain  occurring  in  T.  is  telegraphed  to  S.,  and 
thence  to  C.  The  office  of  S.  is  to  send  telegrams 
from  T.  to  C.  In  case  of  the  destruction  of  T., 
by  amputation  of  the  foot,  pain  may  be  felt  in  S. 
or  in  C,  in  consequence  of  irritation  in  those  cen- 
tres, at  any  indefinite  period  after  the  operation. 
When  felt  in  either  of  those  centres  it  will  be 
referred  to  T.,  whether  the  latter  is  attached  to 
the  body  or  lies  at  the  bottom  of  the  ocean.  The 
general  law  is  that  in  a  certain  class  of  3ases,  pain 
perceived  at  the  centre  is  referred  to  some  point 
in  the  circumference.  The  analogy  between  tliis 
und  the  previous  explanation  of  pseudopia  is  evi- 


VISIONS.  239 

dent,  and  it  lends  additional  confirmation  to  the 
truth  of  the  explanation. 

The  third  ease,  that  of  Mrs.  B.,  is  remarkable 
for  the  distinctness  of  the  vision,  for  its  appear- 
ance by  dajdight,  and  for  the  sort  of  personal 
identity  which  the  phantom  sustained.  From  the 
fact  that  it  appeared  only  in  connection  with  some 
general  febrile  disturbance,  it  is  evident  that  it 
belonged  to  the  class  of  complex  automatic  pseud- 
opia,  and  admits  of  the  same  explanation  as 
others  of  that  class.  It  should  not  be  forgotten 
that  headache  frequently  acompanied  Mrs.  B.'s 
febrile  attacks,  and  sometimes  proved  to  be  a 
warning  of  the  approach  of  her  ghostly  friend. 
It  is  impossible  to  gather  from  her  account  the  de- 
tails of  the  process,  by  which  old  and  disused  cell 
groups  were  so  completely  revived.  All  the  con- 
ditions, however,  for  the  production  of  pseudopia 
were  present.  She  was  naturally  endowed  with 
an  excitable  and  nervous  temperament.  She  wit- 
nessed in  childhood  an  occurrence  —  a  death  —  un- 
der circumstances  of  distress  and  horror,  such  as 
are  seen  by  few,  and  which  made  a  profound  and 
permanent  impression  upon  her.  Her  emotions 
were  excited,  at  the  time,  to  such  a  degree,  that 
she  could  never  afterwards  allude  to  the  event 
without  distress.  Later  in  life  she  became  sub- 
ject to  the  febrile  attacks  just  mentioned,  which 
were  attended  with  slight  cerebral  congestion. 
At  such  periods  the  brain  cells,  including  those 
of  the  visual  apparatus,  were  temporarily  flushed 


240  vrsroNS. 

with  blood,  and  therefore  just  in  the  state  to  be 
called  into  activity  by  the  slightest  stimulus.  It 
is  probable  that  her  pseudopia  was,  in  some  rec- 
ondite way,  connected  with  the  terrible  occur- 
rence she  witnessed  in  childhood,  though  she  could 
never  make  out  the  chain  of  connection.  How- 
ever that  may  be,  it  is  apparent  that  whenever 
the  current  of  blood  poured  freely  through  the 
machinery  of  vision,  cell-groups,  which  had  been 
deeply  stamped  by  some  scene  .of  which  tlie 
phantom  figure  was  the  outcome,  were  revived  ; 
and  as  soon  as  this  was  accomplished,  association, 
habit,  and  allied  influences,  playing  on  the  visual 
apparatus,  would  set  its  automatic  machinery  at 
work,  and  produce  her  customary  pseudopia. 

The  next  case,  which  is  reported  by  Miss  — ^ , 

the  subject  of  it,  is  an  illustration  of  what  may  be 
called  a  pseudopic  habit.  Pseudopia  occurred 
with  her  in  childhood,  to  such  an  extent  as  to 
torment  her ;  then  ceased  for  a  while ;  and  later 
in  life  returned.  Her  case,  like  the  previous  ones, 
is  an  instance  of  complex  automatic  pseudopia,  not 
only  the  visual  apparatus,  but  the  whole  cere- 
brum being  implicated.  It  is  not  difficult  to  give 
a  satisfactory  physiological  explanation  of  her 
visions.  She  was  congenitally  endowed  with  a 
sensitive  nervous  organization,  and  in  childhood 
exhibited  an  unusual  proclivity  to  the  pseudopia 
of  that  age.  The  hard  experience  of  anxiety, 
long  illnesses,  sorrow,  and  bereavement,  to  which 
she  was  exposed  in  later  years,  had  a  tendency  to 


VISIONS.  241 

develop,  rather  than  repress  the  idiosyncrasies  of 
her  nervous  system.  Her  emotional  nature  was 
sorely  exercised,  and  sorely  tried.  Great  anxiety 
and  exhaustion  pi-edisposes  to  visions,  just  as  star- 
vation makes  its  victims  dream  of  savory  repasts, 

and  tables  loaded  with  food.     Miss was  often 

exposed  both  to  anxiety  and  exhaustion,  and  she 
herself  notices  in  her  report  that  visions  beset  her 
only  or  chiefly  when  she  was  anxious  or  exhausted. 
The  cells  of  her  visual  and  other  nerve  centres 
were  then  in  their  most  mobile  and  sensitive  state, 
readily  gathered  into  groups,  by  any  stimulus 
however  slight,  and  became  the  basis  of  sensory 
and  ideational  conceptions.  Under  such  circum- 
stances, automatic  action  would  exercise  its  larg- 
est, and  volition  its  least  control.  The  frontal 
lobes  would  partake  of  the  disorder,  so  that  her 
power  of  analysis  and  correct  interpretation  would 
be  weakened,  if  not  temporarily  destroyed.  In 
this  condition,  a  shadow  from  the  wall,  or  from  a 
curtain  fold,  or  group  of  clothes,  or  from  almost 
anything  would  be  sufficient,  reaching  a  visual 
centre,  to  stimulate  it  into  activity,  and  pseudopia 

would  result.     The  figure  which   Miss saw 

was  undoubtedly  formed  in  this  way.  Some  slight 
stimulus  acted  on  her  visual  apparatus,  the  au- 
tomatic action  of  which  produced  the  sensory  cell- 
groups  of  the  figure  and  projected  it  into  space. 
It  was  actualized.  She  saw  it  though  it  did  not 
exist.  Sir  Walter  Scott,  in  his  "  Demonology  and 
Witchcraft,"  describes  a  vision  of  Lord  Byron,  ini- 

16 


242  VISIONS. 

tiated  in  this  way,  with  which  he  was  favored,  and 
which  he  had  the  insight  and  good  sense  to  ex- 
plain correctly :  — 

"  Passing  from  his  sitting-room  into  the  entrance-hall, 
fitted  up  with  the  skins  of  wild  beasts,  armor,  etc.,  he 
saw  right  before  him,  and  in  a  standing  posture,  the  ex- 
act representation  of  his  departed  friend,  whose  recollec- 
tion had  been  so  strongly  brought  to  his  imagination. 
He  stoj^ped  for  a  single  moment,  so  as  to  notice  the 
wonderful  accuracy  with  which  fancy  had  impressed 
upon  the  bodily  eye  the  peculiarities  of  dress  and  pos- 
ture of  the  illustrious  poet.  Sensible,  however,  of  the 
delusion,  he  felt  no  sentiment  save  that  of  wonder  at  the 
extraordinary  accuracy  of  the  resemblance,  and  stepped 
onwards  towards  the  figure,  which  resolved  itself,  as  he 
approached,  into  the  various  materials  of  which  it  was 
composed.  These  were  merely  a  screen  occupied  by 
great  coats,  shawls,  plaids,  and  such  other  articles  as  are 
usually  found  in  a  country  entrance-hall.  Sir  Walter 
returned  to  the  spot  from  which  he  had  seen  this  prod- 
uct of  what  may  be  called  imagination  proper,  and  tried 
with  all  his  might  to  recall  it  by  the  force  of  his  will, 
but  in  vain." 

Dr.  Tuke,  in  his  "  Mind  and  Body,"  reports  an 
instance  in  wliich,  by  virtue  of  what  he  called 
sympathetic  emotion  and  attention,  a  number  of 
persons  were  made  the  victims,  in  spite  of  their 
eyes,  of  the  same  deception,  at  the  same  time,  and 
from  the  same  cause  :  — 

"  During  the  conflagration  at  the  Crystal  Palace  in  the 

1  Quoted  by  W.  B.  Carpenter,  Mental  Physiology,  p.  207. 


VISIONS.  243 

winter  of  1866-1867,  when  the  animals  were  destroyed 
by  the  fire,  it  was  supposed  that  the  chimpanzee  had 
succeeded  in  escaping  from  liis  cage.  Attracted  to  the 
roof,  with  this  expectation  in  full  force,  men  saw  the 
unhappy  animal  holding  on  to  it,  and  writhing  in  agony 
to  get  astride  one  of  the  iron  ribs.  It  need  not  be 
said  that  its  struggles  were  watched  by  those  below 
with  breathless  suspense,  and,  as  the  newspapers  in- 
formed us,  "  with  sickening  dread."  But  there  was  no 
animal  whatever  there ;  and  all  this  feeling  was  thrown 
away  upon  a  tattered  piece  of  blind,  so  torn  as  to  re- 
semble, to  the  eye  of  fancy,  the  body,  arms,  and  legs  of 
an  ape."  ^ 

It  is  worthy  of  notice,  that  in  this  case  and  the 
preceding  one,  the  pseudopia  was  distinct  by  day- 
light, showing  how  closely  it  may  imitate  orthopia. 
The  imitation  may  be  so  exact  as  to  render  it 
impossible  to  distinguish  one  from  the  other  ex- 
cept by  applying  the  correction  of  another  sense, 
or  by  comparison  with  the  sight  of  others.  The 
instance  just  quoted  from  Dr.  Tuke  shows  that 
the  later  form  of  correction  will  not  always  de- 
tect the  error.  As  a  rule,  however,  it  is  not 
difficult  to  detect  pseudopia,  whenever  an  intel- 
ligent and  honest  effort  is  made  to  do  so. 

The  next  case  of  the  series  is  the  celebrated  one 
of  Nicolai,  of  Berlin,  quoted  from  his  own  report. 
It  presents  several  points  of  great  interest,  alike 
to  the  psychologist  and  physiologist.  It  is  one  of 
the  rare  instances,  in  which  both  the  eye  and  the 

1  Mind  and  Body,  Am.  ed. 


244  VISIONS. 

ear  were  deceived  simultaneously.  Nicolai  saw 
human  forms  projected  into  space  before  him,  and 
heard  them  speak.  Thus  two  senses  conspired  to 
deceive  their  owner  at  the  same  time.  Notwith- 
standing this,  he  was  not  duped.  He  recognized 
the  error  of  his  eyes  and  ears,  carefully  observed 
the  pseudopia,  and  recorded  his  observations.  This 
occurred  more  than  one  hundred  years  ago,  and 
indicates  a  degree  of  physiological  sagacity,  phi- 
losophic thought,  and  absence  of  superstition,  re- 
markable for  the  age  in  which  he  lived.  His 
explanation  of  his  visions  is  far  in  advance  of  the 
science,  and,  it  may  be  added,  of  the  theology  of 
the  last  century.  The  persistence  of  the  pseud- 
opia and  pseudotia,  and  their  evident  connection, 
as  in  the  case  of  Mrs.  B.,  are  important  physiolog- 
ical facts.  They  show  that  the  cells  of  the  sen- 
sorium,  and  of  the  higher  nerve  centres,  may  ac- 
quire a  chronic  facility  for  grouping  themselves 
into  old  forms.  At  the  present  time,  aided  by  the 
light  of  modern  physiology,  his  visions  admit  of  a 
satisfactory  solution.  Without  any  doubt,  Nicolai 
saw  and  heard  what  he  described,  but  his  seeing 
and  hearing  were  all  purely  subjective. 

It  appears  that  Nicolai's  emotional  nature  had 
been  stirred  to  its  lowest  depths,  not  long  before 
he  was  visited  by  the  visions  he  describes.  As  the 
inevitable  result  of  such  violent  perturbation  his 
sensorial  and  ideational  nerve  centres  were  thrown 
into  a  disturbed,  excitable,  and  sensitive  state.  As 
a   cause  or   consequence  of   this,  the   vaso-motor 


VISIONS.  245 

centre  dilated  the  blood-vessels  confided  to  its 
care,  and  let  in  an  unusual  flow  of  blood.  A 
group  of  cells  was  formed,  probably  in  the  angu- 
lar gyri,  which,  influenced  by  association,  emotion, 
habit,  and  the  like,  stimulated  the  automatic  ac- 
tion of  the  visual  apparatus  to  such  a  degree,  that 
it  revived  other  cell-groups,  accustomed  to  appear 
together,  till  at  length  the  cipher  or  hieroglyphic 
of  his  deceased  friend  was  revived.  As  soon  as 
this  was  accomplished,  pseudopia  was  produced. 
Under  the  same  influences,  acting  now  with  in- 
creased powei",  and  to  which  was  added  undoubt- 
edly the  force  of  expectant  attention,  the.  vision 
was  projected  into  space,  and  the  phantom  stood 
forth  before  the  amazed  observer,  in  human  shape. 
The  auditory  centres,  according  to  the  experiments 
of  Ferrier  and  others,  are  anatomically  near  the 
visual  centres.  Sound,  like  light,  is  a  form  of 
motion,  and  its  perception,  like  the  perception 
of  light,  is  subjective,  not  objective.  Wherever 
human  forms  are  seen,  human  speech  is  commonly 
heard.  The  human  voice  goes  with  the  human 
form.  And  so  in  the  brain,  when  visual  cell- 
groups  which  represent  human  forms  are  called 
together  by  orthopia,  cell-groups  which  represent 
human  speech  are  apt  to  be  called  together,  at  the 
same  time,  in  the  neighboring  auditory  centres. 
In  the  case  of  Nicolai,  habit,  association,  and  ex- 
pectant attention,  intensified  by  emotion,  would 
unite,  as  his  vision  continued  to  appear,  to  act 
energetically  on  the  automatic  machinery  of  hear- 


246  VISIONS. 

ing.  At  length,  their  influence  was  such  as  to 
set  the  auditory  apparatus  iu  motion.  Auditory 
cell-groups  were  formed,  and  speech  was  heard, 
which  was  inevitably  projected  out  to  the  figures 
before  him.  Thus  the  united  automatic  action  of 
his  visual  and  auditory  apparatus  completed  the 
vision.  He  saw  distinctly,  but  there  was  no  form. 
He  heard,  but  there  was  no  voice. 

The  voice  which  Nicolai's  friend,  Mendelssohn, 
heard  after  the  experience  of  intense  emotion,  is 
of  course  to  be  explained  by  these  physiological 
principles.  Plis  auditory  cells  assumed  automati- 
cally the  shape  corresponding  to  sound. 

Nicolai's  cerebral  congestion  was  apparently  re- 
lieved by  depletion  ;  and  after  the  congestion  was 
removed  his  visions  ceased.  Such  was  probably 
the  order  of  occurrences.  Hyperaemia  and  anoe- 
mia  of  the  brain  will  produce  almost  any  sort  of 
functional  derangement  of  the  intracranial  organs. 

The  follovnng  case,  which,  like  that  of  Nicolai, 
illustrates  a  condition  of  the  brain,  probably  a 
state  of  congestion,  capable  of  producing  pseudo- 
pia,  was  kindly  communicated  to  the  author  by 
Dr.  S.  Weir  Mitchell  of  Philadelphia,  the  distin- 
guished physiologist  and  neurologist.  The  sub- 
ject of  the  case  was  a  lady,  and  the  report,  given 
in  her  own  language,  is  in  answer  to  a  request  for 
it  from  Dr.  Mitchell,  who  vouches  for  the  unques- 
tioned trustworthiness  of  the  reporter.     "  After  a 

long  interval,"  says  Mrs. ,  "  an  interval  indeed 

of  years,  I  recall  the  '  visions '  of  the  illness  you 


VISIONS.  247 

refer  to  as  vividly  as  though  but  a  few  hours  had 
passed  since  I  was  first  conscious  of  them.  It 
hardly  needs  even  an  effort  of  memory  to  see 
again  with  startling  distinctness  the  endless  pro- 
cession of  tiny  men,  who  floated  across  the  upper 
part  of  the  wall  of  my  bedroom  023posite  the  bed 
where  I  lay.  They  entered  the  room  by  the  tran- 
som above  the  door  in  couples,  perfect  little  men, 
tiny  in  form,  with  cheery  bright  faces  ;  long  fair 
hair  hanging  about  their  brows  and  down  their 
shoulders ;  thej'^  were  dressed  all  alike  in  vivid 
green  short-clothes,  with  long  straight  waistcoats 
and  deep  cuffs  ;  they  came  from  the  time  when  I 
saw  them  first  until  I  slept ;  and  even  sometimes 
in  sleep  I  dreamed  of  them  carrying,  as  they 
always  did,  each  one,  a  heavy  pickaxe,  —  and  a 
coffin,  covered  with  crimson  cloth.  The  coffins 
were  borne  between  two  of  the  tiny  men,  who 
walked  always  with  their  bright  little  faces  turned 
smilingly  toward  me,  but  carrying  their  strange 
burden  with  exceeding  care.  Endless  as  this  pro- 
cession seemed,  as  it  entered  on  one  side  and 
passed  through  the  end  of  the  wall  on  the  other 
side  of  the  room,  as  on  the  stage  of  a  theatre 
figures  disappear  behind  a  side  scene,  I  had  one 
means,  but  only  one,  of  arresting  their  movement 
and  staying  the  numerous  little  figures  in  their 
wearying  march.  When  I  counted  them  thet/ 
stood  still,  and  just  so  long  as  I  continued  to  count 
them,  audibly,  which  I  would  do  day  after  day 
until  strength  and  utterance  failed  me,  they  re- 


248  VISIONS. 

mained  motionless,  resuming  their  movement  the 
moment  the  voice  ceased  to  repeat  the  numbers. 
They  were  never  affected  by  conversation,  no 
matter  how  much  I  might  myself  be  interested  in 
it.  The  drift  of  the  procession  swept  on  and  on, 
until  I  once  said,  wearied  almost  to  death  by  the 
persistent  pressure  of  its  members,  to  my  phy- 
sician, '  I  believe  I  am  going  mad.'  But  one  day 
when  my  illness  had  increased,  and  I  was  worn 
by  the  long  continuance  of  pain  and  wearisome 
sleeplessness,  I  saw  a  sudden  change  sweep  with 
startling  swiftness  over  the  faces  and  dress  and 
burdens  of  my  tiny  visitors.  Looking  steadily  at 
me  as  they  always  did,  the  bright  cheery  faces 
suddenly  changed  and  shrivelled,  growing  sad  and 
worn  and  colorless,  like  the  faces  of  old  men. 
There  was  a  sudden  eagerness  and  hurry  in  their 
movements,  contrasting  strangely  with  their  for- 
mer steadiness,  if  not  absolute  repose,  as  each  one 
setting  down  hurriedly  the  cofl&n  he  held,  —  drew 
over  his  bright  green  clothes  a  heavy  overcoat 
of  dark  brown  cloth.  The  coffins,  so  tiny  but 
so  distinct,  seemed  to  grow  suddenly  heavy,  and 
changed  from  vivid  red  to  black.  The  movement 
of  the  procession,  when  at  last  it  was  resumed, 
was  no  longer  rhythmical,  but  jolting  and  hurried 
and  confused.  This  condition  of  my  little  visitors 
lasted  through  the  entire  day  and  night.  I  hailed 
it  as  a  welcome  change,  when  on  the  next  morn- 
ing I  found  my  little  men  once  more  in  their  oi-ig- 
inal  clothing,   their  ruffled  hair  all  smooth   and 


VISIONS.  249 

shining,  the  little  faces  cheery  and  bright,  and 
once  more  the  crimson  coffins  carried  by  them  in 
serious  but  rapid  procession  as  at  first.  This 
'  vision '  remained  with  me  long  after  I  left  my 
sick-room,  returning  with  any  undue  exertion  or 
fatigue,  dying  out  with  intermissions  of  hours, 
then  of  days,  and  at  last  ceasing  altogether." 

The  following  comments  were  made  by  the  re- 
porter herself :  "  1.  I  had  seen  this  vision  many 
times  before  I  was  willing  to  speak  of  it  to  my  phy- 
sician. 2.  I  have  said  that  the  figures ^oa^e*^  acnoss 
my  room.  I  think  this  is  slightly  inaccurate,  they 
moved  as  though  on  a  firm  but  hilly  road,  march- 
ing steadily,  but  following  the  wall  in  its  rise  or 
fall.  3.  When  I  lay  with  my  eyes  shut,  I  still 
saw  the  procession  as  through  the  eyelids.  4.  In 
dreaming  of  them,  I  saw  them  as  one  sees  objects 
in  ordinary  dreams,  not  with  the  sense  of  creating 
the  objects  but  simply  enumerating  them." 

The  next  case,  that  of  Mr.  A.,  is  as  interesting 
and  peculiar  as  that  of  Nicolai,  and  formerly 
would  have  been  as  inexplicable.  Mr.  A.  saw 
three  figures  in  his  chamber  at  night,  and  heard 
them  sing  a  number  of  songs,  for  about  an  hour 
and  a  half,  when  his  servants  could  not  hear  or 
see  any  one.  Here  again  two  senses,  seeing  and 
hearing,  were  deceived  simultaneously.  This  is 
unusual ;  but  the  marvel  is  not,  when  visions  oc- 
cur, that  this  sort  of  double  deception  should  be 
rare,  but  that  it  should  not  occur  oftener.  A 
priori,  it  would  seem,  if  subjective  vision  created 


250  visroNS. 

a  human  form,  that  subjective  heanng  should 
endow  it  with  speech.  The  physiological  princi- 
ples, which  have  been  here  discussed,  afford  a 
rational  explanation  of  Mr.  A.'s  vision  also.  He 
was  an  ardent  lover  of  music,  and  a  frequenter  of 
concerts  and  musical  entertainments.  During  a 
long  life  his  brain  cells  had  been  often  grouped  to- 
gether at  the  sound  of  music,  and  at  the  sight  of 
musical  performers.  The  same  groups  must  have 
been  formed  repeatedly,  both  in  his  visual  and 
auditory  apparatus.  For  some  time  before  his 
vision,  he  began  to  suffer  from  cerebral  difficulties, 
of  which  one  of  the  prominent  symptoms  was  a 
sense  of  pressure  in  the  head.  There  was  more 
or  less  cerebral  congestion,  and  he  finally  died 
of  disease  of  the  brain.  All  these  conditions 
were  favorable  to  functional  derangement  of  his 
nerve  centres.  It  is  conceivable  that  any  sort  of 
cell-groupings,  or  cell  modifications,  might  occur 
under  these  circumstances.  The  slightest  stimulus 
would  be  sufficient  to  put  in  motion  the  whole, 
or  a  part  of  his  intracranial  machinery.  He 
went  to  bed  and  fell  asleep.  While  sleeping,  the 
notes  of  a  serenade,  or  the  whistling  of  a  boy  in 
the  street,  or  the  vibration  of  distant  music,  or 
even  the  excitement  of  a  dream,  would  be  enough 
to  rouse  his  automatic  cerebral  apparatus  into 
musical  activity.  Just  as  the  pricking  of  a  finger 
will  rouse  that  finger's  appropriate  spinal  ganglion 
sufficiently  to  move  the  wounded  member,  auto- 
matically transforming  sensation  into  motion,  so  a 


vrsTONS.  251 

rhythmical  vibration,  touching  Mr.  A's.  auditory 
ganglia,  roused  them  into  activity,  transforming 
sensation  into  ideation.  His  visual  and  auditory 
centres  had  acquired  the  habit,  in  musical  mat- 
ters, of  acting  together.  Like  a  pair  of  old  family 
horses,  which  had  trotted  in  each  other's  company 
for  a  lifetime,  till  each  had  acquired  the  habit  of 
starting  out  with  the  other,  without  much  regard 
to  the  coachman's  call,  so  Mr.  A.'s  sight  and  hear- 
ing were  trained  to  the  mutual  enjoyment  of  music. 
One  had  accompanied  the  other,  for  a  long  life,  to 
concerts  and  musical  gatherings,  and  each  expected 
to  be  employed  when  the  other  was.  As  soon, 
therefore,  as  some  stimulus,  however  slight,  had 
set  the  chords  of  his  auditory  apparatus  into  au- 
tomatic action,  producing  subjective  sound,  his  vis- 
ual nerve  centres  were  sympathetically  aroused, 
and  soon  produced  subjective  vision.  It  will  be 
remembered  that  he  heard  sounds,  apparently  in 
the  street,  before  he  saw  any  one.  His  auditory 
apparatus  functionated  first,  and  it  was  not  until 
after  the  lapse  of  a  considerable  interval,  that  his 
visual  apparatus  followed  its  example.  As  soon 
as  this  was  done,  the  two  processes  went  on  har- 
moniously together.  It  should  be  observed  that 
Mr.  A.'s  vision  resembled,  in  many  respects,  con- 
certs with  which  he  was  familiar.  There  were 
performers,  dressed  after  the  orthodox  fashion  of 
Miusical  artists,  who  cleared  their  throats,  and  got 
up  and  sat  down  in  the  most  approved  way,  and 
seemed  to  do  all  the  little  nothings,  necessary  to 


252  VISIONS. 

occupy  the  interludes.  The  tune  occupied  wiis 
about  the  length  of  an  ordinary  concert,  and  the 
selections  were  familiar  to  him.  It  is  not  probable 
that  any  particular  concert  was  rehearsed  before 
him,  but  that  bits  of  one  concert  followed  bits  of 
another,  —  a  composition,  not  a  copy,  —  just  as  the 
revival  of  one  set  of  musically  stamped  cells  led 
to  the  revival  of  another.  The  pseudopia  was  not 
repeated,  and  in  Mr.  A.'s  condition  it  was  not 
likely  to  be.  The  congestion,  which  yielded  blood 
enough  to  the  visual  and  auditory  apparatus  to 
enable  them  to  go  through  these  abnormal  per- 
formances, increased.  Stupor  supervened,  and  Mr. 
A.  died.  His  suspicions  were  correct  that  his  vis- 
ion, a  compound  of  pseudopia  and  pseudotia,  was 
a  warning  for  him  to  "  step  out."  During  this 
singular  occurrence,  and  after  it,  he  was  so  little 
moved,  emotionally  and  intellectually,  that  the  vis- 
ion should  be  classed  as  simple  automatic  pseud- 
otia. His  visual  and  auditory  mechanism  seemed 
to  act,  as  far  as  possible,  independently.  Groups 
of  old  visual  and  auditory  cells  moved  in  and  out 
of  his  field  of  seeing  and  hearing,  and  were  tele- 
graphed to  his  ideational  centres,  as  honest  re- 
porters of  objective  sights  and  sounds. 

The  last  case  of  the  series  is  that  of  Mr.  E., 
which  illustrates  two  forms  of  pseudotia,  —  the 
complex  automatic  form,  and  the  volitional  form. 
It  possesses  an  especial  value  on  account  of  the  in- 
tellectual training  and  large  attainments  of  its  sub- 
ject.    His  childhood's  experience  indicated  a  ner- 


VISIONS.  253 

vous  organization  predisposed  to  pseudotia.  Pre- 
vious to  his  visions,  prolonged  and  unwise  mental 
application  had,  by  inducing  excess  of  nervous  ex- 
penditure over  repair,  of  destructive  over  con- 
structive metamorphosis,  weakened  his  nerve  cen- 
tres, rendering  their  nerve  cells  and  cell  contents 
abnormally  sensitive  and  unstable.  The  power 
of  coi'rectly  interpreting  sensorial  impressions  was 
impaired,  as  well  as  their  dependence  upon  the 
will.  They  were  liable  to  start  into  almost  any 
sort  of  abnormal  action,  upon  the  slightest  stim- 
ulus. This  condition  was  increased  by  mental 
excitement,  great  bodily  fatigue,  and  prolonged 
abstinence  from  food.  Thus  prepared,  his  brain 
transformed  rays  of  light,  from  gas-lamps  on  the 
street,  into  bouquets,  caused  trees  to  disappear 
before  him,  and  arid  plains  to  take  their  place. 
A  fair-haired  youth,  the  reminiscence  of  a  statue, 
looked  at  him  from  underneath  a  pulpit,  and  other 
forms  of  pseudopia  amazed  him.  When  the  state 
of  his  nervous  system  is  considered,  none  of  these 
phenomena  can  be  called  strange :  they  were  a 
sort  of  lofty  delirium.  If  he  had  starved  and 
illtreated  his  bi*ain  somewhat  more  severely,  he 
would  have  had  mania,  instead  of  pseudopia,  and 
been  carried  to  a  hospital  instead  of  reaching  his 
college  apartment.  He  was  wise  in  abstaining 
from  the  exercise  of  a  power,  which  he  found  by 
experiment  he  possessed,  —  that  of  producing 
pseudopia  by  an  act  of  volition.  '  It  is  probable 
that  if  he  had  exercised  this  power  to  any  great 


254  VISIONS. 

extent,  he  would  have  injured  his  nervous  system. 
Goethe  might  do  it,  but  Goethes  are  not  often 
found. 

In  connection  with  these  clinical  observations 
it  is  interesting  to  know  that  some  persons,  appar- 
ently in  excellent  health,  and  among  them  some 
of  the  greatest  minds,  have  been  visited  and  puz- 
zled by  visions.  Spinoza,  —  one  of  the  world's  in- 
tellectual giants,  who,  insensible  to  prejudice  and 
superstition,  never  shrunk,  in  his  speculations  with 
regard  to  man  and  God,  from  any  conclusions  to 
which  his  inexorable  logic  carried  him,  — has  re- 
corded the  fact  of  being  visited  by  a  vision.  No  one 
would  accuse  him  of  being  led  astray  by  fancy, 
emotion,  or  any  of  the  false  lights,  which  mislead 
lesser  folk.  It  appears  that  "  His  friend  Peter 
Balling  had  heard  in  the  night  certain  groanings. 
Afterwards,  his  child  fell  ill,  gave  utterance  to 
■groanings  which  Balling  recognized  as  identical 
with  those  he  had  before  heard  in  the  night,  and 
died.  Balling  wrote  to  be  instructed  whether  the 
groanings  he  had  heard  were  '  omens.'  Spinoza 
replied  at  some  length  in  a  very  curious  letter. 
He  considered  that  the  groanings  heard  by  Balling 
were  '  imaginations.'  It  had  happened  to  him- 
self, he  related,  that,  waking  up  one  morning,  the 
images  of  which  his  dreams  had  been  composed 
remained  obstinately  before  his  eyes,  as  vivid  as 
though  they  had  been  real  things.  Amongst  these 
was  the  image  of  a  '  certain  black  and  filthy 
Ethiopian  '    whom    he    had    never   before    seen. 


VISIONS.  255 

This  image  in  great  part  disappeared  when  he 
directed  his  eyes  with  attention  to  a  book  or  other 
object ;  but  returned  with  the  same  vividuess  as 
it  at  first  possessed,  so  soon  as  he  allowed  his  eyes 
to  fall  anywhere  carelessly/  (sine  attentione').  The 
image  at  length  disappeared  from  the  head  down- 
wards. His  description  of  the  phenomenon  may 
be  interesting  to  students  of  the  psychology  of 
dreams."^ 

It  is  evident  that  Spinoza,  without  comprehend- 
ing the  physiology  of  the  phenomenon,  justly  re- 
garded the  Ethiopian  as  a  construction  of  his  own 
brain,  and  not  as  a  supernatural  person,  or  as  pos- 
sessing an  objective  existence. 

The  thought  of  the  poet,  overleaping  the  limits 
of  the  age  into  which  he  is  born,  by  the  insight 
or  rather  the  far-sight  of  genius,  sometimes  detects 
the  secrets  of  the  future  with  marvellous  accuracy. 
In  this  respect,  Shakespeare  always  has  been,  and 
always  will  be,  the  mystery  of  the  ages.  Into 
what  science  did  his  eye  not  penetrate  ?  Even  the 
physiology  of  visions  did  not  escape  him.  He  has 
illustrated  and  explained  them  in  a  few  choice 
words,  which  excite  not  less  wonder  and  admira- 
tion by  their  physiological  accuracy,  than  by  the 
singular  knowledge  they  display  of  a  subject, 
about  which  little  or  nothing  was  known  two  hun- 
dred years  ago.  It  is  worth  while  to  turn  aside 
a  moment  from  the  hard  path  of  our  dry  discus- 

1  Contemporary  Review,  reprinted  in  Litlell's  Living  Age,  No. 
«714,  April  21,  1877,  p.  143. 


256  VISIONS. 

8ion,aiid  see  how  Shakespeare  regarded  pseudopia. 
He  has  admirably  interpreted  it.  In  the  d.igger 
scene  of  Macbeth,  the  murderer,  on  his  way  to  the 
king's  cliamber,  is  confronted  by  a  vision  in  the 
air  of  a  bloody  dagger.     Amazed,  he  exclaims,  — 

"  Is  this  a  dagger  which  I  see  before  me. 
The  handle  towards  my  hand  ?  " 

Doubting  the  testimony  of  his  eyes,  he  proceeds, 
justifying  by  so  doing  his  freedom  from  supersti- 
tion and  fear,  to  test  and  correct  their  evidence  by 
his  sense  of  touch  :  — 

"  Come,  let  me  clutch  thee. 
I  have  tliee  not,  and  yet  I  see  thee  still. 
Art  thou  not,  fatal  vision,  sensible 
To  feeling  as  to  sight  I " 

Finding  that  the  testimony  of  the  sense  of  touch 
confirmed  that  of  sight,  he  tried  another  expedient 
by  which  to  prove  the  vision,  and  submitted  the 
dagger  in  the  air  to  a  careful  comparison  with  his 
own : — 

"  I  see  thee  yet,  in  form  as  palpable 
As  this  which  now  I  draw." 

By  these  various  tests  Macbeth  is  convinced 
of  the  reality  of  the  vision  he  has  encountered. 
Now  what  is  Shakespeare's  explanation  ?  He  does 
not  make  Macbeth  deny  the  vision,  or  call  it  fancy, 
or  a  supernatural  visitation,  or  give  any  of  the  the- 
ories of  that  age.  He  gives  the  exact  physiologi- 
cal explanation,  in  language  which,  for  accuracy 
and  brevity,  cannot  be  surpassed.     He  calls  it :  — 


VISIONS.  257 

"  A  dagger  of  the  mind  :  a  false  creation, 
Proceeding  from  the  heat-oppressed  brain." 

In  Macbetb's  mei)tul  state,  intense  emotion, 
driving  the  blood  to  the  brain,  would  heat  and 
oppress  the  nerve  centres,  producing  "a  heat- 
oppressed  brain,"  and  by  a  brain  so  pressed,  sub- 
jective daggers  —  daggers  of  the  mind  —  would  be 
created  and  projected  into  space  more  readily  than 
Goethe  could  revive  a  picture  by  an  effort  of  his 
will.  Shakespeare  does  not  stop  here.  Macbeth 
examines  the  dagger  more  closely:  — 

"  I  see  thee  still. 
""  And  on  thy  blade  and  dudgeon  gouts  of  blood, 

Which  was  not  so  before." 

Satisfied  that  the  vision  was  a  creation  of  his 
own  brain,  not  the  messenger  of  any  God  or  devil, 
and  denying  its  objective,  but  not  its  subjective 
existence,  he  next  demanded  the  cause  of  this 
singular  appearance,  and  says  :  — 

"  It  is  the  bloody  business  which  informs 
Thus  to  mine  eyes." 

Could  any  physiologist  of  to-day,  assisted  by 
lenses,  laboratories,  and  all  the  appliances  of 
scientific  investigation,  give  any  better  explana- 
tion !  Whence  such  knowledge,  in  the  age  of 
Queen  Elizabeth  ? 

VISIONS   OF   THE  INSANE. 

The  visions  of  the  insane  present  an  interest- 
ing and  instructive  field  of  study,  and  one  allied 
17 


258  VISIONS. 

to  the  proceeding ;  but  any  attempt  to  explore 
it  would  scarcely  be  in  harmony  with  the  design 
of  this  essay.  Moreover,  the  insane  are  a  pecul- 
iar people,  possessing  peculiar  and  extraordinary 
features,  and  demanding  peculiar  aptitudes  on 
the  part  of  those  who  study  and  manage  them. 
That  insanity  is  a  disease  of  the  brain,  and  not 
of  the  soul  or  mind,  independent  of  the  brain,  is 
now  admitted  by  all  alienists.  Such  being  the 
case,  ^t  follows  necessarily  that  the  organic  changes 
and  modifications,  which  underlie  insanity,  wheth- 
er discoverable  or  not  by  our  present  means  of  in- 
vestigation, must  modify  the  development  of  its 
visions,  as  well  as  of  its  other  symptoms.  The 
visions  of  the  insane  naturally  partake  of  the  pe- 
culiarities of  their  condition,  and  although  the 
physiological  principles,  which  have  been  here  en- 
forced are  applicable,  mutatis  mutandis,  to  them, 
yet  the  discussion  of  these  principles,  in  their 
application  to  insane  visionists,  properly  belongs 
to  those  who  are  charged  with  their  care,  and  will 
not  be  examined  here. 

VISIONS   OF   THE   DYING. 

The  previous  study  of  the  visions  of  childhood, 
of  adult  life,  and  of  disease,  naturally  lead  to  an 
examination  of  the  visions  of  the  dying,  —  to  the 
pseudopia  of  the  death  bed.  The  subject  is  a 
sacred  one,  and  is  indissolubly  bound  up  with  oui 
holiest  and  tenderest  feelings.  We  love,  and  not 
unnaturally,  to  hope  and  believe,  when  the  silver 


VISIONS.  259 

cord  is  loosed  which  has  bound  those  we  love  to 
earth,  that,  at  the  moment  of  the  loosing,  there 
may  come  a  glimpse  of  heaven,  which  for  an  in- 
stant shall  clothe  the  dying  features  with  angelic 
brightness,  and  perhaps  give  to  the  departing  one 
a  momentary  recognition  of  those  who  have  gone 
before.  Such  is  the  conviction  of  some,  the  faith 
of  many,  and  the  hope  of  most.  The  supersti- 
tions and  traditions  of  the  past  encourage  this 
belief,  and  the  private  and  public  history  of  man- 
kind furnish  innumerable  examples  which  appa- 
rently illustrate  it.  There  is  scarcely  a  family 
in  the  land,  some  one  of  whose  members  has  not 
died  with  a  glorified  expression  on  the  features,  or 
exclamation  on  the  lips,  which,  to  the  standers  by, 
was  a  token  of  a  beatific  vision.  History  is  full 
of  the  detailed  accounts  of  the  death-beds  of  great 
men,  —  warriors,  statesmen,  martyrs,  confessors, 
monarchs,  enthusiasts,  and  others,  to  whom,  at 
the  moment  of  dissolution,  visions  of  congenial 
spirits,  or  of  heavenly  glories  were  vouchsafed. 

It  seems  unnecessary  to  examine  the  foundation 
of  such  hopes,  and  almost  cruel  to  destroy  them. 
Yet  it  is  better  to  know  the  truth  than  to  adopt 
a  counterfeit  of  it,  or  to  nourish  a  faith  built  on 
error.  Moreover,  when  the  truth  which  replaces 
a  misconception  is  comprehended,  it  yields  greater 
satisfaction  and  brighter  hopes  than  the  old  error. 
Visions  of  the  dying  are  no  exception  to  this 
statement.  It  is  better  to  know  what  they  are 
and  how  they  are  produced,  than  to  leave  them 


260  VISIONS. 

shrouded  in  mystery.  Could  this  be  accomplished, 
much  of  the  terror,  with  which  the  act  of  disso- 
lution is  now  invested,  would  disappear,  and  a 
serene  faith,  born  of  knowledge,  take  its  place. 

Dissolution  is  a  natural  event  in  the  course  of 
life,  not  life's  end.  It  does  not  close  a  career,  but 
marks  an  epoch.  Without  it  the  world  and  life 
would  come  to  an  end,  for  life  is  born  of  death. 
Being  a  natural  process,  death  should  not  be 
more  mysterious,  or  more  painful  than  other  nat- 
ural processes,  and  the  closest  observation  shows 
that  it  is  not  so.  The  mystery  which  shrouds  it 
is  not  greater  than  that  which  shrouds  birth,  or 
thought,  or  volition  ;  and  yet  instinct,  fear,  hope, 
imagination,  superstition,  and  religion,  have  all 
conspired  to  misinterpret  its  attendant  phenom- 
ena, distort  its  character,  and  crown  it  King  of 
Terrors,  transforming  an  angel  into  a  devil,  n, 
blessing  into  a  curse.  It  is  time  these  false  no- 
tions were  dissipated,  and  death  seen  in  its  true 
nature.  It  would  still  be  clothed  with  mystery 
enough  to  command  the  utmost  awe  and  rever- 
ence, and  be  the  harbinger  of  sorrow  enough  to 
melt  and  discipline  mankind,  and  to  call  for  all 
the  resources  of  philosophy  and  religion. 

One  of  the  most  common  of  these  errors  is  the 
notion,  that  pain  and  dying  are  inseparable  com- 
panions. The  truth  is  they  rarely  go  together. 
Occasionally,  the  act  of  dissolution  is  a  painful 
one,  but  this  is  an  exception,  and  a  rare  excep- 
tion, to  the  general  rule.     The  rule  is  that  uncon- 


VISIONS.  261 

sciousness,  not  pain,  attends  the  final  act.  To 
tlie  subject  of  it,  deatli  is  no  more  painful  than 
birth.  Painlessly  we  come ;  whence  we  know  not. 
Painlessly  we  go  ;  whither  we  know  not.  Nature 
kindly  provides  an  ansesthetic  for  the  body  when 
the  spirit  leaves  it.  Previous  to  that  moment,  and 
in  preparation  for  it,  respiration  becomes  feeble, 
generally  slow  and  short,  often  accomplished  by 
long  inspirations  and  short,  sudden  expirations,  so 
that  the  blood  is  steadily  less  and  less  oxygenated. 
At  the  same  time,  the  heart  acts  with  correspond- 
ing debility,  producing  a  slow,  feeble,  and  often 
irregular  pulse.  As  this  process  goes  on,  the  blood 
is  not  only  driven  to  the  brain  with  diminished 
force,  and  in  less  quantity,  but  what  flows  .there  is 
loaded  more  and  more  with  carbonic  acid  gas,  a 
powerful  anaesthetic,  the  same  as  that  derived  from 
charcoal.  Subjected  to  its  influence,  the  nerve 
centres  lose  consciousness  and  sensibility  ;  appar- 
ent sleep  creeps  over  the  system  ;  then  comes  stupor, 
and  then  the  end.    Thus  nature,  depriving  death  of 

pain, 

"  Gently  slopes  the  way  " 

from  this  world  to  that.  The  process  resembles 
the  asphyxia  of  drowning,  to  which  allusion  was 
made,  when  speaking  of  the  revival  of  past  images, 
thoughts,  and  memories,  said  to  crowd  the  brain  of 
a  drowning  person.  Convulsive  twitchings,  livid 
features,  gurgling  in  the  throat,  and  similar  ghast- 
ly symptoms,  which  mark  the  last  moment,  are 
only  exhibitions  of  unconscious  automatic  action. 


262  VISIONS. 

The  testimony  of  the  dying,  so  long  as  they  are 
able  to  give  any  testimony,  is  that  their  suffer- 
ings do  not  increase  as  the  termination  of  life 
ai)proaches,  but  on  the  contrary  grow  less.  The 
following  incident  illustrates  the  truth  of  this  re- 
mark, and,  so  far  as  a  single  instance  is  of  value, 
confii-ms  what  has  been  said  as  to  the  painlessness 
of  dissolution.  A  medical  friend,  whom  I  at- 
tended professionally  in  his  last  illness,  was  the 
victim  of  a  most  painful  disease.  He  was  aware 
of  its  incurable  character.  Supported  by  an  in- 
telligent faith  in  God  and  immortality,  he  pre- 
pared himself  with  admirable  courage  and  unfal- 
tering trust  for  the  final  change.  In  consequence 
of  continual  and  severe  pain,  he  was  obliged  dur- 
ing the  last  few  months  of  his  life  to  take  opium 
daily.  He  sent  for  me  one  night  soon  after  mid- 
night. A  brief  examination  was  sufficient  to  show 
that  the  end  was  near. 

"Do  these  symptoms  mean  perforation?"  asked 
Dr. 

"  They  do,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Then  I  have  reached  the  end  of  the  chapter," 
he  quietly  remarked,  and  added,  "  how  long  shall 
I  probably  last?  " 

"  That  you  know,"  I  said,  "  as  well  as  any  one : 
perhaps  twenty-four,  or  thirty-six  hours." 

Scarcely  heeding  the  reply,  he  continued,  — 

"  I  am  ready ;  but  promise  me  this  :  that  I  shall 
not  suffer  pain,  if  you  can  prevent  it." 

The  promise  was,  of  course,  given,  and  I  agreed 


VISIONS.  263 

to  see  him  every  hour  or  two  as  long  as  he  lived. 
This  being  done,  I  said  to  him,  "  One  thing  re- 
mains ;  how  shall  I  communicate  with  you  when, 
at  the  very  close,  the  time  comes  that  you  cannot 
indicate  whether  you  suffer  or  not  ?  " 

After  a  little  talk  the  following  signals  were 
agreed  upon  :  He  was  to  indicate  a  negative  an- 
swer, or  No,  by  raising  the  forefinger  ;  and  an  af- 
firmative answer,  or  Yes,  by  raising  the  forefinger 
and  the  one  next  to  it  also.  One  finger  was  No  ; 
two  fingers  Yes.  Having  arranged  this  matter, 
he  took  rather  more  than  his  habitual  dose  of 
opium,  and  was  soon  comparatively  quiet.  The 
pain  did  not  return.  For  twelve  or  fifteen  hours 
he  appeared  much  as  usual ;  conversed  with  his 
family  and  friends,  and  was  clieerful  and  serene. 
Then,  as  nature's  anaesthetic  began  to  act,  he  be- 
came dull  and  heavy.  In  answer  to  repeated 
inquiries  as  to  pain,  he  constantly  replied  in  the 
negative.  At  length,  he  answered  less  readily. 
For  an  hour  or  so  before  death  he  answered  only 
by  the  signal  of  his  fingers  which  had  been 
agreed  upon,  and  by  that  signal  he  replied  quickly 
and  intelligently.  Fifteen  minutes  before  disso- 
lution, I  asked  him,  "  Do  you  suffer  pain  ?  "  He 
instantly  made  the  negative  signal  by  raising  his 
forefinger.  After  this  he  made  no  sign,  but  slept 
peacefully  to  the  end. 

Another  erroneous  notion  is  that  a  momentary 
glow  on  the  countenance,  opening  and  apparent 
fixing  of  the  eyes  upon  some  object,  or  person,  or 


264  17SI0NS. 

upon  vacancy,  a  certain  earnestness  of  expression, 
and  similar  signs,  betoken  intelligence.  All  such 
phenomena  as  these  are  automatic.  They  are 
analogous  to  those  produced  by  etherization.  An 
etherized  person  loses  volition,  consciousness,  and 
sensibility,  but  is  not  deprived  of  the  functions  of 
organic  life.  And  so  a  person  asphyxiated  by 
natural  death  loses  volition,  consciovisness,  and  in- 
telligence, before  automatic  action  and  the  func- 
tions of  involuntary  life  depart.  The  glowing 
cheek,  and  jBxed  or  rolling  eye,  are  indications  of 
mechanical  action  after  the  higher  centres  have 
ceased  to  functionate. 

Deprived  of  volition  and  intelligence,  and  given 
over,  for  a  brief  period,  to  automatic  power,  it  is 
to  be  expected  that  the  intracranial  apparatus, 
and  especially  the  sensory  portion  of  it,  would  oc- 
casionally exhibit  singular  phenomena.  The  won- 
der is,  not  that  they  do  so  at  all,  but  that  they  do 
not  do  so  oftener.  A  steam-engine,  shattered  by 
a  blow  and  deserted  by  its  engineer,  will  for  a 
few  seconds  make  a  singular  exhibition  of  power, 
leaping  obstacles,  running  up  ascents,  plunging 
into  rivers,  and  illustrating,  in  a  variety  of  ways, 
the  action  of  blind  force.  So  the  ganglia  of  the 
brain,  just  before  dissolution,  sometimes  show 
their  automatic  power  by  phenomena,  which  are 
unusual,  and  often  regarded  as  supernatural. 
This  is  particularly  true  of  the  visual  apparatus. 
Not  only  is  the  brain  released,  at  this  time,  from 
its  usual  controlling  force,  and  oppressed  by  an 


VISIONS.  265 

angesthetic,  but  its  cells,  cell-contents,  nerve  fibres, 
and  all  its  tissues  must  be  in  a  peculiar  organic 
condition,  the  direct  or  indirect  result  of  disease. 
Old  sensitized  plates  (cells)  of  memory,  emotion, 
thought,  sight,  and  the  like,  the  accumulated 
stores  of  a  lifetime,  must  partake  of  the  general 
commotion,  and  oftentimes  be  brought  into  condi- 
tions which  permit  their  being  easily  called  into 
functional  activity.  Their  dynamic  state  may  be 
temporarily  exalted.  Should  a  bright  ray  of  light, 
falling  from  some  object  in  the  chamber,  on  the 
retina  of  a  dying  person,  excite  the  visual  appa- 
ratus, and  cells,  the  hieroglyphic  of  a  departed 
child,  husband,  lover,  or  friend,  be  brought  into 
the  field  of  subjective  sight,  the  beloved  one 
would  be  reproduced,  and  at  once  projected  into 
space.  Intense  emotion,  engendered  by  such  a 
sight,  would  for  an  instant  break  through  the  stu- 
pefying power  of  nature's  ansesthetic,  as  the  sur- 
geon's knife  sometimes  momentarily  breaks  the 
spell  of  ether,  and  the  dying  individual  springing, 
with  ej'es  intent,  features  transfigured,  and  arms 
outstretched,  toward  the  vision,  would  naturally 
pronounce  the  long  remembered  name,  and  then 
fall  back  and  die.  Such  scenes  have  occurred. 
Few  could  .witness  them  without  an  overwhelm- 
ing sense  of  awe,  oppressed 

"  With  thoughts  beyond  the  reaches  of  our  souls." 

at  beholding  for  a  moment,  the  apparent  lifting  of 
the  veil  and  the  glory  within.     To  the  dying, 


266  VISIONS. 

such  a  vision  would  not  be  false.  It  would  not 
be  imagination.  It  would  be  real  to  him.  The 
well-known  features  would  be  there,  and  yet  they 
would  be  a  creation,  or  reproduction  of  a  dissolv- 
ing bi'ain,  and  not  a  messenger  from  the  opened 
heavens.  The  vision  would  be  a  physiological 
effect,  not  a  supernatural  intervention. 

The  following  incident  illustrates  the  power  of 
the  bruin  to  revive  past  memories  at  the  moment 
of  dissolution  :  — 

"  I  was  watching  one  night  beside  a  poor  man  dying 
of  consumption  ;  his  case  was  hopeless,  but  there  was 
no  ai^pearance  of  the  end  being  very  near  ;  he  was  in 
full  possession  of  his  senses,  able  to  talk  with  a  strong 
voice,  and  not  in  the  least  drowsy.  He  had  slept  through 
the  day  and  was  so  wakeful  that  I  had  been  conversing 
with  him  on  ordinary  subjects  to  while  away  the  long 
hours.  Suddenly,  while  we  were  thus  talking  quietly 
together,  he  became  silent,  and  fixed  his  eyes  on  one 
particular  spot  in  the  room,  which  was  entirely  vacant, 
even  of  furniture  ;  at  the  same  time  a  look  of  the  great- 
est delight  changed  the  whole  expression  of  his  face, 
and  after  a  moment  of  what  seemed  to  be  intense  scru- 
tiny of  some  object  invisible  to  me,  he  said  to  me  in  a 
joyous  tone,  '  There  is  Jim.'  Jim  was  a  little  son  whom 
he  had  lost  the  year  before,  and  whom  I  had  known 
well,  but  the  dying  man  had  a  son  still  living,  named 
John,  for  whom  we  had  sent,  and  I  concluded  it  was  of 
John  he  was  speaking,  and  that  he  thought  he  heard 
him  arriving;  so  I  answered, — 'No.  John  has  not 
been  able  to  come.'  The  man  turned  to  me  impatiently 
and  said,  '  I  do  not  mean  John  ;  I  know  he  is  not  here ; 


VISIONS.  267 

it  is  Jim,  my  little  lame  Jim  ;  surely  you  remember 
him?'  'Yes,'  I  said,  '  I  remember  dear  little  Jim,  who 
died  last  year,  quite  well.'  '  Don't  you  see  him  there  ? 
There  he  is,'  said  the  man,  pointing  to  the  vacant  space 
on  which  his  eyes  were  fixed ;  and  when  I  did  not  an- 
swer, he  repeated  almost  fretfully,  '  Don't  you  see  him 
standing  there  ?  '  I  answered  that  I  could  not  see  him, 
tliough  I  felt  perfectly  convinced  that  something  was 
visible  to  the  sick  man,  which  I  could  not  perceive. 
When  I  gave  him  this  answer  he  seemed  quite  amazed, 
and  turned  round  to  look  at  me  with  a  glance  almost  of 
indignation.  As  his  eyes  met  mine,  I  saw  that  a  film 
seemed  to  pass  over  them,  the  light  of  intelligence  died 
away,  he  gave  a  gentle  sigh,  and  expired.  He  did  not 
live  five  minutes  from  the  time  he  first  said,  '  There  is 
Jim,'  although  there  had  been  no  sign  of  approaching 
death  previous  to  that  moment."  ^ 

The  similarity  of  this  vision  to  some  of  those 
forming  the  basis  of  our  present  investigation  is 
obvious.  The  appearance  of  this  for  a  single  in- 
stant only,  and  of  those  for  a  considerable  period, 
constitute  no  essential  difference  between  them. 
All  saw  a  human  form,  distinctly,  when  others 
could  not  do  so.  A  similar  cerebral  condition, 
not  necessarily  the  same  condition,  must  have  ex- 
isted in  all  of  them,  probably  a  condition  char- 
acterized by  more  or  less  hyperemia.  If  there 
had  been  anything  supernatural  about  this  case,  —  . 
as  the  reporter  of  it  is  inclined  to  believe,  — there 
should  be  a  supernatural  element  in  the  others 

^  New   Quarterly   Review,    reprinted   in    LittelVs   Living   Age, 
August  11,  1877  ("  The  Riddle  of  Death"). 


268  VISIONS. 

also.  But  if  physiology  can  give  an  adequate  an4 
rational  explanation  of  tliem,  the  same  explana- 
tion should  be  applied  to  this.  Wherever  natural 
forces  supply  a  sufficient  cause,  it  is  unnecessary 
and  unphilosophical  to  seek  for  any  other. 

It  is  stated  in  this  case  that  the  patient  was  not 
drows}?^  before  the  appearance  of  his  vision,  or  be- 
fore his  death.  He  died  suddenly,  so  that  there 
was  no  opportunity  or  necessity  for  nature  to  pro- 
vide an  anaesthetic.  This  does  not  militate  against 
the  fact  that  dissolution  is  ordinarily  painless,  or 
against  nature's  method  of  securing  euthanasia. 
When  death  occurs  suddenly  from  disease  of  the 
heart'  or  brain,  or  from  nervous  exhaustion  or 
other  cause,  it  must  obviously  be  painless,  and 
the  combined  action  of  the  heart  and  lungs,  by 
which  nature  provides  a  painless  departure  in  the 
slower  and  more  common  ways  of  dying,  would 
be  unnecessary.  It  happens  not  infrequently  that 
a  patient,  exhausted  by  long  illness,  dies  suddenly 
from  exhaustion,  and  if  so,  without  pain. 

It  is  conceivable  that,  under  the  conditions  which 
have  been  described,  almost  any  sort  of  pseudopia 
might  occur.  Sometimes  one  of  the  nerve  cen- 
tres is  affected,  sometimes  another,  and  sometimes 
all  of  them  are.  Perhaps  those  most  commonly 
called  into  activity  at  the  time  of  dissolution  are 
the  motor  centres,  the  irritation  or  excitement  of 
which  is  apt  to  produce  general  or  partial  convul- 
sions. These  are  always  expected.  They  are 
the  recognized  attendants  of  the  death-bed,  re- 


VISIONS.  269 

garded  by  the  ignorant  as  an  effort  of  the  spirit 
to  free  itself  from  its  prison,  and  christened  the 
death  struggle.  They  are  strictly  automatic  and 
painless,  and  physiologically  are  analogous  to  vis- 
ions. At  that  moment  of  cerebral  cell  confusion 
and  disintegration,  a  stimulus,  impinging  on  a 
motor  centre,  excites  convulsions  ;  on  a  visual  cen- 
tre, visions ;  on  an  auditory  centre,  sounds,  and  so 
on.  Automatism  rules  for  a  brief  period  before 
death  closes  the  scene. 

This  cerebral  commotion,  and  the  pseudopia 
which  now  and  then  accompanies  it,  belong  to 
the  moment  of  dissolution.  The  condition  of  the 
cerebral  tissues,  precedhig  the  final  breaking  up 
by  some  hours  or  days,  is,  of  course,  somewhat 
different  from  their  condition  at  that  time.  Stu- 
por and  anesthesia,  so  characteristic  of  the  final 
stage  in  most  cases,  do  not  appear  till  an  indi- 
vidurti  is  moribund.  Antecedent  to  that  stage, 
the  sufferer  may  be  heavy,  oppressed,  and  dull, 
wretched  and  worn  out  by  the  discomforts  and 
agony  of  disease,  but  still  retain  an  unclouded  in- 
tellect, unfaltering  courage,  and  serene  faith.  In 
this  state,  when  disease,  if  acute,  has  been  mak- 
ing rapid  inroads  upon  the  system  ;  if  chronic,  has 
been  slowly  undermining  it,  the  nerve  centres  are, 
of  course,  more  or  less  involved.  Waste  predom- 
inates over  repair.  Weakness  characterizes  the 
nervous  system  as  well  as  the  rest  of  the  organiza- 
tion. All  the  nerves  are  unnaturally  sensitive,  or 
irritable,  even  when  there  is  apparent  torpidity. 


270  VISIONS. 

The  eye  is  easily  disturbed  by  light,  and  the  ear 
by  sounds.  The  presence  of  near  friends  is  pleas- 
ant, of  half  friends  offensive.  The  gentle  pres- 
sure of  a  loving  hand  is  more  grateful  than  speech  ; 
light  friction  of  the  skin  than  gossip  ;  quiet  and 
solitude  than  excitement  and  company.  All  this 
betrays  irritability  of  the  higher  nerve  centres, 
and  is  a  state  in  which  they  are  as  sensitive  to  in- 
ternal or  subjective  impressions  as  tO  objective 
ones.  The  memories  of  childhood,  of  youthful 
friends  and  early  scenes,  are  revived  with  extra- 
ordinary vividness.  Tears  come  readily.  Emo- 
tions of  all  sorts  are  intensified.  Cells  and  cell- 
groups,  which  have  been  associated  by  the  habits 
and  occupations  of  a  life,  perhaps  of  a  long  life, 
are  easily  revived  and  stimulated  into  reflex  ac- 
tivity through  the  brain,  and  excite  its  sensory, 
motor,  and  ideo-motor  centres.  These  are  pre- 
cisely the  conditions  which  favor  the  production 
of  subjective  pseudopia,  and  particularly  of  idea- 
tional pictures  or  visions.  Thus,  Napoleon,  en- 
feebled by  sickness,  not  moribund,  but  soon  to  be 
so,  recalling,  perhaps  subjectively  looking  upon, 
scenes  of  past  slaughter  and  glory,  startled  his 
attendant  with  the  cry,  '■'■Tete  d''  armSer  Thus, 
victims  of  the  Inquisition,  starved  and  tortured 
into  weakness  and  disease,  were  often  cheered  and 
consoled,  on  the  eve  of  their  auto-da-fe^  by  vis- 
ions of  their  sainted  predecessors  beckoning  thera 
to  follow.  Thus,  hospital  patients,  strangers,  poor 
and  friendless,  have  amazed  their  companions  by 


VISIONS.  271 

stories  of  glorified  visitors,  bringing  hopes  of  re- 
lease which  were  soon  verified.  Tennyson's  "  May 
Queen"  illustrated  one  of  these  states  of  quiet 
thanatopsis,  when  shortly  before  her  departure, 
she  heard  voices  of  angels  calling  her  to  join 
them.  Pages,  or  rather  volumes,  could  be  filled 
with  histories  of  visions  of  this  sort,  if  the  records 
and  traditions  of  the  past,  and  especially  if  the 
biographies  of  devout  Catholics,  were  searched 
for  them.  Saints,  who  have  mortified  the  flesh 
till  their  ansemic  brains,  rapidly  disintegrating 
and  highly  sensitive,  are  brought  to  the  eve  of 
dissolution,  present  the  most  favorable  conditions 
for  the  production  of  subjective,  ante-mortem 
pseudopia.  With  volition  at  its  minimum,  reflex 
activity  at  its  maximum,  their  nerve-cells  wasted 
and  dried  into  tinder,  is  it  marvellous  that  their 
brains  should  sometimes  burn  with  unwonted 
light  ? 

These  and  similar  manifestations  are  of  peculiar 
interest  to  the  physiologist,  as  illustrations  of  au- 
tomatic cerebral  activity,  and  to  the  psychologist, 
as  illustrations  of  the  power  of  the  brain  to  pro- 
duce results,  which  have  hitherto  been  regarded 
as  purely  mental.  They  exhibit  not  only  the 
power  of  the  sensory  and  motor  apparatus,  but 
indicate  the  effects  which  the  sensoi-i-motor  and 
ideo-motor  apparatus  are  capable  of  producing, 
when,  deprived  of  a  coordinating  centre,  they  act 
independently.  Emotions,  subjective  sensations, 
pictiorial  representations,  ideational  pictures,  ideas, 


272  VIRIONS. 

hieroglyphics  of  the  past,  and  distortions  of  the 
present,  flow,  a  confused  medley,  through  the  sen- 
sorium  ;  flame  up  there  for  a  moment,  with  a 
strange,  unearthly  light,  to  disappear,  so  far  as 
the  body  is  concerned,  forever.  If  this  be  so,  —  and 
what  physiologist  can  doubt  it,  —  the  stories  of 
heaven  opening  over  death-beds,  upon  which  an- 
gels ascend  and  descend,  and  of  friends  gone  be- 
fore, waiting  to  welcome  the  new  comer,  must  be 
referred,  not  to  supernatural  agencies,  or  to  the 
imagination,  but  simply  to  the  automatic  action 
of  the  brains  of  the  dying.  They  are,  however 
much  our  hopes  may  wish  they  were  not,  the  last 
flickering  of  life's  taper;  the  occasional  flashing 
of  cerebral  fires,  burning  the  brain's  accumulated 
stores  of  experience. 

Probably  all  such  visions  as  these  are  automatic. 
But  yet,  who,  believing  in  God  and  personal  im- 
mortality, as  the  writer  rejoices  in  doing,  will  dare 
to  say  absolutely  all  ?  Will  dare  to  assert  there 
is  no  possible  exception  ?  If  life  is  continuous, 
heaven  beyond,  and  death  the  portal,  is  it  philo- 
sophical to  affirm  that  no  one  entering  that  portal 
has"  ever  caught  a  glimpse,  or  can  ever  catch  a 
glimpse,  before  he  is  utterly  freed  from  the  flesh,  of 
the  glory  beyond  ?  May  not  the  golden  bowl,  just 
as  it  is  shattered,  "  be  touched  by  rays  from  a  light 
that  is  above  it,"  and  flash  with  a  glory  no  lan- 
guage can  describe  ?  The  pure  materialist,  sad  dis- 
ciple of  nihilism,  may  dispute  this,  but  no  theist  or 
Christian  will  be  bold  enough  to  deny  it.    Frances 


VISIONS.  273 

Power  Cobbe,  in  a  recent  article  from  which  the 
last  case  was  quoted,  has  given  utterance  to  the 
above  thought.  "  Assuming,"  she  says,  "  that  we 
are  individually  already  convinced  that  the  quasi- 
universal  creed  of  the  human  race  is  not  erroneous, 
and  that  the  '  soul  of  a  man  never  dies  '  we  may 
not  unreasonably  turn  to  the  solemn  scene  of  dis- 
solution, and  ask,  Whether  there  do  not  some- 
times occur,  under  one  or  two  perhaps  of  its  hun- 
dred forms,  some  incidents  which  point  in  the 
direction  of  the  great  Fact,  which  we  believe  to  be 
actually  in  process  of  realization  ?  According  to 
our  common  conviction,  there  is  a  moment  of  time, 
when  the  man  whom  we  have  known  in  his  garb 
of  flesh,  casts  it  aside,  actually,  so  to  speak,  before 
our  eyes,  and  '  this  mortal  puts  on  immortality.' 
....  Of  course,  it  is  quite  possible  that  the  nat- 
ural law  of  death  may  be  that  the  departed  al- 
ways sink  into  a  state  of  unconsciousness,  and 
rather  dip  beneath  a  Lethe  than  leap  a  Rubicon. 
It  is  likewise  possible  that  the  faculties  of  a  dis- 
embodied soul,  whatever  they  may  be,  may  need 
time  and  use,  like  those  of  an  infant,  before  they 
can  be  practically  employed.  But  there  is  also 
at  least  a  possibility  that  consciousness  is  not  al- 
ways lost,  but  is  continuous  through  the  passage 
from  one  life  to  another,  and  that  it  expands, 
rather  than  closes,  at  the  moment  when  the  bonds 
of  the  flesh  are  broken,  and  the  man  enters  into 
possession  of  his  higher  powers  and  vaster  facul- 
ties, symboUed  by  the  beautiful  old  emblem  of 

18 


274  VISIONS. 

Psyche's  emanc"  pated  butterfly  quitting  the  shell 
of  the  chrysalis.  In  this  hitter  case  there  is  a 
certain  primd  facie  presumption  that  close  obser- 
vation ought  to  permit  us  occasionally  to  obtain 
some  brief  ghmpse,  some  glance,  though  but  of 
lightning  swiftness  and  evanescence,  revealing 
partially  this  transcendent  change."^ 

With  the  hope  of  throwing  some  light  upon 
this  interesting  question,  competent  persons  were 
asked  by  the  authoress  of  the  "  Riddle  of  Death,"  if 
they  had  ever  observed  any  phenomena,  at  the 
moment  of  dissolution,  indicating  that  the  Ego 
—  mind  or  soul  —  was  conscious  of  a  new  phase 
of  existence  before  leaving  this.  Nine  observa- 
tions are  reported,  the  character  of  which  was  be- 
lieved to  justify  such  a  notion.  Judged  by  the 
principles  forming  the  basis  of  our  present  study 
of  visions,  it  is  unnecessary  to  go  beyond  the 
physiological  action  of  the  brain  for  a  rational  and 
satisfactory  explanation  of  most  of  them.  Two  or 
three  of  the  cases,  however,  present  phenomena, 
of  which,  to  say  the  least,  it  is  difficult  to  give  an 
adequate  physiological  solution.  The  following 
incident,  the  subject  of  which  was  an  intelligent 
boy  about  fourteen  years  of  age,  dying  of  "  de- 
cline "  illustrates  this  remark :  — 

"  He  was  a  refined,  highly  educated  child,  who  through- 
out his  long  illness  had  looked  forward  with  much  hope 
and  longing  to  the  unknown  life  to  which  he  believed 

1  The  Riddle  of  Death,  by  Frances  Power  Cobbe.  LitteU's 
Living  Age  and  New  Quarterly  Review. 


tisiONS.  275 

he  was  hastening.  On  a  bright  summer  morning  it  be- 
came evident  that  he  had  reached  his  Last  hour.  He 
lost  the  power  of  speech,  chiefly  from  weakness,  but  he 
was  perfectly  sensible,  and  made  his  wishes  known  to 
us  by  his  intelligent  looks.  He  was  sitting  propped  up  in 
bed,  and  had  been  looking  rather  sadly  at  the  bright 
sunshine  playing  on  the  trees  outside  his  open  window 
for  some  time.  He  had  turned  away  from  this  scene, 
however,  and  was  facing  the  end  of  the  room,  where 
there  was  nothing  whatever  but  a  closed  door,  when  all 
in  a  moment  the  whole  expression  of  his  face  changed 
to  one  of  the  most  wondering  rapture,  which  made  his 
half-closed  eyes  open  to  their  utmost  extent,  while  his 
lips  parted  with  a  smile  of  perfect  ecstasy  ;  it  was  im- 
possible to  doubt  that  some  glorious  sight  was  visible  to 
him,  and  from  the  movement  of  his  eyes  it  was  plain 
that  it  was  not  one  but  many  objects  on  which  he  gazed, 
for  his  look  passed  slowly  from  end  to  end  of  what 
seemed  to  be  vacant  wall  before  him,  going  back  and 
forward  with  ever-increasing  delight  manifested  in  his 
whole  aspect.  His  mother  then  asked  him  if  what  he 
saw  was  some  wonderful  sight  beyond  the  confines  of 
this  world,  to  give  her  a  token  that  it  was  so  by  pressing 
her  hand.  He  at  once  took  her  hand,  and  pressed  it 
meaningly,  giving  thereby  an  intelligent  affirmative  to 
her  question,  though  unable  to  speak.  As  he  did  so  a 
change  passed  over  his  face,  his  eyes  closed,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  he  was  gone."  ^ 

Here  is  another  instance  in  which  it  is  difficult 
to   trace  the  action  of    automatism.     An  elderly 
man  was  dying  of  a  painful  disease,  which,  how- 
ever, did  not  obscure  his  mental  faculties.     Al- 
1  The  Riddle  of  Death. 


276  VISIONS. 

tLough  it  TraB  known  to  be  incurable,  hp  haxi 
been  told  that  he  might  live  some  months,  when 
somewhat  smldenly  the  summons  came  on  a  dark 
January  morning.  It  had  been  seen  in  the  course 
of  the  night  that  he  was  sinking,  but  for  some 
time  he  had  been  perfectly  silent  and  motionless, 
apparently  in  a  state  of  stupor;  his  eyes  closed 
and  his  breathing  scarcely  perceptible.  As  the 
tardy  dawn  of  the  winter  morning  rf^vealed  the 
rigid  features  of  the  countenance  from  which  life 
and  intelligence  seemed  to  have  quite  departed, 
those  who  watched  him  felt  tmcertain  whether  he 
still  lived  ;  but  suddenly,  while  they  bent  over  him 
to  ascertain  the  truth,  he  opened  his  eyes  wide,  and 
gazed  eagerly*  up  ward  with  such  an  nnmistakaVjle 
expression  of  wonder  and  joy,  that  a  thrill  of  awe 
passed  through  all  who  witnessed  it.  His  whole 
face  grew  bi-ight  with  a  strange  gladness,  while 
the  eloquent  eyes  seemed  literally  to  shine  as  if 
reflecting  some  light  on  which  they  gazed  ;  he  re- 
mained in  this  attitude  of  delighted  surprise  for 
some  minutes,  then  in  a  moment  the  eyelids  fell, 
the  head  drooped  forward,  and  with  one  long 
breath  the  spirit  departed.^ 

From  the  observation  of  death  beds  for  more 
than  a  quarter  of  a  century,  during  which  period 
I  have  often  witnessed  the  dissolution  of  persons 
of  all  ages  and  conditions,  I  can  recall  only  a  sin- 
gle instance  of  which  the  phenomena  admitted 
the  possibility  of  any  other  interpretation  than  a 
1  77t€  Kiddk  ofDeaiL 


nsioss.  277 

physiological  one.  It  was  night.  The  departing 
one  waa  a  lady  of  middle  age.  Her  death,  though 
momentarily  expected  from  cardiac  disease,  was 
not  announced  or  preceded  by  the  usual  anaes- 
thesia of  the  dying.  During  the  night,  when 
awake,  her  mental  action  was  perfect.  She  con- 
versed, a  few  minutes  before  dying,  as  pleasantly 
and  intelligently  as  ever.  There  was  no  stupor, 
delirium,  itrangeneii,  or  moribund  sfymptom  indi- 
cating cerebral  disturbance.  Her  cardiac  sy mptx^ms 
alone  foreshadowed  the  great  change.  After  say- 
ing a  few  words,  she  turned  her  head  upon  her 
pillow  as  if  to  sleep,  then  unexpectedly  turning  it 
back,  a  glow,  brilliant  and  beautiful  exceedingly, 
came  into  her  features ;  her  eyes,  opening,  sparkled 
with  singular  vivacity ;  at  the  same  moment,  with 
a  tone  of  emphatic  surprise  and  delight,  she  pro- 
nounced the  name  of  the  earthly  being  nearest 
and  dearest  to  her  ;  and  then,  dropping  her  head 
upon  her  pillow,  as  unexpectedly  as  she  had  looked 
up,  her  spirit  departed  to  GkKi  who  gave  it.  The 
conviction,  forced  upon  my  mind,  that  something, 
departed  from  her  body,  at  that  instant  rupturing 
the  bonds  of  flesh,  was  stronger  than  language 
can  express. 

There  Ls  an  important  difference,  in  one  respect, 
between  the  last  three  cases  and  the  previous  ones. 
In  the  previous  cases  a  definite  object,  like  a  hu- 
man face,  or  form,  was  seen ;  sometimes  more  tlian 
one  indi\'idual  appeared.  Moreover,  those  who 
made   themselves  visible  were   departed   friends, 


278  VISIONS. 

and  bore  familiar  faces.  /Their  hieroglyphics  had 
been  laid  away  in  the  cerebral  cells  of  the  dying 
individual,  and  were  consequently  capable  of  be- 
ing revived  with  greater  or  less  fidelity.  In  the 
last  tliree  cases,  no  definite  object,  form,  or  face, 
was  apparently  seen.  The  departing  person 
seemed  to  gaze  with  intense  interest  and  delight, 
and  a  transfigured  countenance,  upon  something, 
whether  some  strange  beauty,  as  of  a  radiant 
glory,  or  an  angelic  group,  or  sainted  friends,  no 
one  present  could  tell,  and  there  was  no  revealing 
sign.  Silence,  surprise,  wonder,  and  rapt  gazing 
■would  be  natural  to  any  one,  even  at  the  moment 
of  dying,  upon  whose  view  such  a  scene  should 
burst.  There  would  be  no  revival  of  brain-cells, 
stamped  with  earthly  memories  and  scenes,  but 
something  seen,  of  which  the  brain  had  received 
no  antecedent  impression,  and  of  which  the  Ego 
had  formed  no  conception. 

It  is  in  some  such  direction  as  this,  if  in  any, 
the  departing  spirit  would  indicate,  just  as  the 
old  is  dropping  off,  that  the  new  is  seen.  En- 
tranced by  a  glimpse  of  what  eye  hath  not  seen, 
nor  ear  heard,  and  of  which  man  has  formed  no 
conception,  his  gaze  would  be  riveted  upon  a  glory, 
invisible  to  his  earthly  companions.  His  features 
would  be  transfigured,  and  those  around  would  be 
amazed,  perhaps  appalled  at  the  sight,  as  some 
fishermen  were,  two  thousand  years  ago,  upon  a 
mountain  in  Galilee  by  the  transcendent  glory  of 
a  familiar  face.     In  Correggio's  "  Notte,"  the  fight 


VISIONS.  279 

which  illuminates  the  group  around  the  infant 
Jesus  proceeds  from  the  face  of  the  Christ-child, 
who,  reposing  on  his  mother's  lap,  unconsciously 
baptizes  all  with  heavenly  beauty.  Such  should, 
and  such  must  be,  the  ineffable  expression  of  trans- 
figured humanity  upon  the  features  of  whoever 
gets  a  sight  of  heaven,  before  he  has  left  the 
earth.  If  ever  a  scene  like  this  occurs,  who 
will  dare  say  that  the  explanation  of  it  may  not 
come  from  a  height  inaccessible  to  our  imperfect 
physiology  ? 

VISIONS   OF   SLEEP. 

Visions  and  dreams  are  near  relatives.  They 
are  produced  by  similar  causes,  depend  on  similar 
conditions,  and  are  subject  to  similar  laws.  Both 
inhabit  the  intracranial  territory,  manifest  them- 
selves by  means  of  the  ganglionic  machinery  of 
the  higher  nerve-centres,  and  not  infrequently 
delude  those  they  visit  into  the  notion,  that  their 
subjective  movements  are  objective  realities.  Both 
claim  an  antiquity  equal  to  that  of  the  human 
race,  and  continue  at  the  present  day,  with  greater 
or  less  success,  to  excite  superstition,  ridicule,  or 
fear,  and  to  -mock  or  strengthen  the  faith  of  man- 
kind. Hence,  a  study  of  visions  naturally  and 
almost  necessarily  leads  to  a  study  of  dreams,  the 
visions  of  sleep.  These  are  a  part  of  those ;  the 
latter  are  included  in  the  former. 

There  are  two  important  differences,  however, 
between  pseudopia  and  dreams,  which  should  be 


280  VISIONS. 

clearly  recognized.  One  is  tliat  the  mechanism  of 
pseudopia  is  limited  to  that  of  the  visual  apparatus. 
Vision,  as  its  name  implies,  belongs  to  seeing,  and 
is  concerned  with  other  functions  only  so  far  as 
it  may  be  influenced  by  them.  The  mechanism 
of  dreams,  on  the  contrary,  embraces  all  the 
mechanism  of  sensation  and  thought.  All  the 
higher  centres  contribute  to  the  evolution,  and 
enhance  the  complexity  of  dreams.  Pseudopia 
cheats  its  victims  by  the  employment  of  a  special 
apparatus  in  the  abnormal  production  of  false 
pictorial  representations.  Dreams  aim  at  the 
same  end,  and  sometimes  attain  it  by  utilizing 
any  part  of  the  nervous  machinery  of  which  they 
can  get  hold.  Pseudopia  is  limited  to  a  com- 
parativel}'^  small  section  of  the  cerebral  system. 
Dreams  occupy  the  whole.  A  second  distinction 
between  dreams  and  pseudopia  is  that  the  occur- 
rence of  dreams  is  confined  to  the  period-  of  sleep, 
while  pseudopia  acknowledges  no  such  limitation. 
A  vision  may  appear  and  excite  the  wonder,  dis- 
turb the  thoughts,  and  perplex  the  judgment  at- 
midday  as  well  as  at  midnight.  A  dream  creeps 
stealthily  into  the  brain,  displaying  its  operations 
when  reason  and  volition  are  off  their  guard,  and 
sleep  has  shorn  judgment  of  its  power. 

Sleep,  then,  is  a  fundamental  condition  of  dream- 
ing, Revery  and  abstraction  may  occupy  our  wak- 
ing hours  and  lead  to  self  forgetfulness,  but  be- 
tween them  and  dreams  there  is  a  great  gulf, 
which  must  be  passed  before  the  land  of  dreams 


VISIONS.  281 

is  reached.  If  it  were  possible  to  comprehend 
the  phenomena  of  sleep,  there  would  be  less  diffi- 
culty in  comprehending  those  of  dreaming.  As 
it  is  dreams  admit  of  a  more  satisfactory  explana- 
tion than  sleep.  What  a  mystery  sleep  is !  So 
like  life  and  so  like  death,  that  it  is  difficult  to 
say  which  of  the  two  it  resembles  most.  Under 
its  influence  the  system  exhibits  the  repose,  un- 
consciousness, and  torpor  of  death,  but  retains  the 
color,  pulse,  and  breath  of  life.  If  we  should  wit- 
ness sleep  for  the  first  time  to-day,  we  should 
look  upon  the  subject  of  its  spell  with  wonder  and 
anxiety,  if  not  with  terror,  and  feel  unspeakable 
relief  as  we  saw  movement,  intelligence,  and  speech 
return.  Now,  accustomed  to  its  mystery,  as  we 
are  to  that  of  life,  we  commit  ourselves  and  our 
dear  ones  to  its  care  with  thankfulness,  not  with 
fear,  assured  that  it  will  carry  us  and  them,  each 
separately  but  safely,  through  the  dark  and  silent 
valley  of  unconsciousness  to  renewed  life.  In  this 
it  is  like  death,  which  leads  us,  each  separately 
and  alone,  through  a  passage  of  equal,  perhaps 
not  of  greater,  darkness  and  unconsciousness  to 
renewed  existence.  Socrates  was  right  in  saying 
that  whoever  does  not  fear  sleep  should  not  fear 
death. 

The  mechanism  of  sleep  is  not  perfectly  made 
out,  but  the  observations  of  Mr.  A.  Durham  of 
England,  and  of  Dr.  W.  A.  Hammond  of  New 
York,  on  the  brain,  and  those  of  Dr.  J.  Hughlings 
Jackson  on  the  retina,  show  that  during  sleep  the 


282  VISIONS. 

activity  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood  through 
a  part  of  the  brain  is  considerably  diminished. 
The  physiological  action  of  a  continued  dose  of 
the  bromide  of  potash,  which  simultaneously  pro- 
duces sleep  and  diminished  activity  of  the  cerebral 
blood  circulation,  points  in  the  same  direction. 
So  does  the  following  case :  — 

"  M.  Perquin  observed  in  the  hospital  of  Montpellier, 
in  1821,  a  case  which  throws  considerable  light  upon  the 
actual  condition  of  the  brain  in  profound  sleep,  and  in 
that  in  which  dreams  occur.  A  female,  aged  26,  had 
lost  a  portion  of  her  scalp,  skull  bone,  and  dura  mater, 
under  an  attack  of  malignant  disease,  by  means  of  which 
a  portion  of  the  brain  was  exposed  in  such  a  manner  as 
admitted  of  inspection.  When  this  patient  was  in  a 
dreamless  state,  or  in  profound  sleep,  her  brain  was 
motionless,  and  lay  within  the  cranium.  When  the 
sleep  was  imperfect,  and  the  mind  was  agitated  by 
dreams,  her  brain  moved  and  protruded  from  the 
cranium,  forming  a  cerebral  hernia.  This  protrusion 
was  still  greater  whenever  the  dreams,  as  reported  by 
herself,  were  most  active,  and  when  she  was  perfectly 
awake,  especially  if  engaged  in  active  or  sprightly  con- 
versation, it  attained  its  fullest  development,  nor  did 
this  protrusion  occur  in  jerks,  alternating  with  recessions, 
as  if  caused  by  arterial  blood,  but  remained  permanent 
while  the  conversation  continued."  ^ 

On  the  other  hand  section  of  the  sympathetic 
nerve  in  dogs  produces  congestion  of  the  brain,  and 
does  not  interfere  with  sleep.  From  these  various 
observations  it  may  be  inferred  with  reasonable 

1  New  Am.  Cyclopedia,  art.  "Dreams." 


VISIONS.  283 

certainty  that  sleep,  and  a  diminished  supply  of 
blood  to  a  part  of  the  brain,  and  congestion  of 
another  part,  bear  an  important  and  definite  re- 
lation to  each  other,  but  it  does  not  appear  from 
them  which  is  cause  and  which  effect.  Sleep 
may  be  the  cause  of  a  retarded  cerebral  circulation, 
though  the  reverse  is  probably  the  case ;  a  con- 
clusion, strengthened  by  Dr.  A.  Fleming's  experi- 
ments on  compression  of  the  carotid  arteries  in  the 
neck.  Fortunately  it  is  not  necessary  to  decide 
this  question,  in  order  to  arrive  at  a  rational  ex- 
planation of  dreams.  It  is  important,  however, 
for  such  a  purpose  to  know  that  derangement  of 
the  cerebral  circulation  is  a  constant  accompani- 
ment or  co-efficient  of  sleep.  Dreams  are  mani- 
fested only  by  a  sleeping  brain,  and  such  a  brain 
carries  less  blood  in  one  part  and  more  in  another 
than  a  waking  one. 

During  sleep  the  process  of  nutrition  is  at  its 
maximum.  This  is  especially  true  of  the  nutri- 
tion of  the  nervous  system.  Its  ganglionic  centres, 
having  supplied  force  for  the  day's  labor,  take 
advantage  of  the  repose  of  sleep  to  repair  their 
cells,  and  obtain  fresh  supplies  of  the  elements  of 
force.  Then  the  brain  is  busy,  discharging  its 
decomposed  products,  the  debris  of  effort,  thought, 
and  volition,  into  the  blood,  and  selecting  from 
the  constituents  of  the  same  fluid  the  elements  of 
its  own  power.  There  is  probably  some  occult 
connection  between  this  process,  and  sleep,  and 
a  diminished  blood  supply.     It  would  be  strange 


284  VISIONS. 

if  the  contemporaneous  action  of  these  three 
factors  were  fortuitous.  Wundt  has  put  forth  the 
ingenious  h3^pothesis  that  the  automatic  cerebral 
excitations  of  sleep  are  due  to  a  retardation  of  the 
intracranial  circulation,  and  consequent  retention 
in  the  blood  of  the  products  of  decomposition. 
He  says :  — 

"  It  is  in  the  highest  degree  probable  that  the  auto- 
matic excitement  of  sleep  has  its  origin  in  the  innervat- 
ing centres  of  the  medulla  oblongata.  Retardation  of 
respiration  is  a  frequent  accompaniment  of  sleep.  The 
tendency  of  the  blood,  thereby  induced,  to  produce 
dyspnoea  probably  acts  as  an  irritant  upon  the  vaso- 
motor nerve  centres  and  so  as  to  cause  retardation  of  the 
circulation  of  blood  within  the  cranium,  and  consequent 
irritation  of  the  central  parts,  and  especially  of  the 
cortex.  This  notion  is  strengthened  by  the  fact  that 
other  forms  of  automatic  irritation,  like  respiratory  con- 
vulsions and  epileptic  spasms,  are  most  easily  excited 
during  sleep."  ^ 

If  we  could  look  in  upon  the  brain  during  sleep, 
and  watch  the  behavior  of  its  minute  con- 
stituents, millions  upon  millions  of  cells  and  cell 
contents,  there  would  be  presented  to  our  view 
not  a  scene  of  repose  and  inactivity,  but  one  of 
incessant  work.  There  would  be  no  congestion 
or  pressure  of  blood  through  the  capillaries, 
whereby  the  manifestation  of  volition,  intellection, 
ideation,  and  similar  nerve  action  is  rendered  pos- 
sible.    The  sort  of  tissue  chaflge,  which  the  day 

1  Physiologische  Psychologie,  p.  189. 


VISIONS.  285 

had  witnessed,  would  be  replaced  by  tbe  labor  of 
repair,  and  the  genesis  of  cells,  granules,  protoplas- 
mic stuff,  and  all  the  raw  material  of  cerebration. 
Everywhere  there  would  be  displayed  activity,  in 
preparation  for  the  next  day's  labor.  The  work- 
man and  the  tools  would  be  microscopic,  almost 
infinitesimal,  it  is  true,  but  still  they  would  be 
there  and  at  work,  and  they  would  be  all  autom- 
ata. In  health  all  this  work  is  performed  in  si- 
lence. We  are  utterly  unconscious  of  it.  Few, 
however,  enjoy  such  perfect  health,  and  sleep  so 
normal  and  profound  as  to  get  no  hint  of  the 
cerebral  action  which  sleep  covers ;  and  when  any 
such  hints  are  received  they  are  apt  to  become  the 
origin  of  dreams.  What  profusion  of  stuff  for 
dreams  is  here  ! 

Another  characteristic  condition  of  the  brain 
during  sleep,  and  one  of  great  importance  in  its 
relations  to  dreams,  is  the  predominance  of  auto- 
matic over  volitional  action.  In  this  respect,  the 
resemblance  of  sleep  to  death  again  appears.  As 
the  system  approaches  dissolution  it  is  surren- 
dered, more  or  less  unreservedly,  to  automatic 
power,  and  in  the  act  of  dying,  the  surrender  is 
complete.  In  sleep  a  similar  condition  prevails, 
but  the  surrender  is  incomplete,  and  the  power  of 
volition,  never  entirely  gone,  can  always  be  re- 
called. The  difference  is  one  of  degree.  In  sleep 
not  only  is  the  superintendence  of  volition  practi- 
cally removed,  but  the  light  of  reason  is  substan- 
tially extinguished,  the  guidance  of  judgment  ab- 


280  VISIONS. 

sent,  and  the  moral  sense  obliterated.  All  the 
highest  faculties,  those  in  most  intimate  relations 
with  the  Ego,  and  which  some  suppose  to  consti- 
tute the  Ego,  are  in  temporary  abeyance,  and  the 
work  of  the  brain  is  carried  on  automatically. 
At  the  same  time  the  sensory  and  reflex  centres 
retain  their  organic  consciousness  and  activity  un- 
diminished. If  a  finger  is  pricked,  the  sensation  is 
felt,  converted  into  motion,  and  the  finger  with- 
drawn, without  awaking  the  sleeper.  The  imper- 
fect digestion  of  a  cold  potato,  or  a  Welsh  rabbit, 
may  produce  the  extremity  of  uneasiness,  almost 
convulsive  thrashing  of  the  limbs,  and  even  screams 
without  opening  the  eyelids.  The  same  holds 
true  of  innumerable  other  sensations,  which  are 
transformed  into  motion  during  sleep.  Not  only 
is  this  the  case,  but  the  delicacy  and  extent  of 
reflex  action  sometimes  seems  to  be  increased  by 
sleep.  Of  this  the  firm  and  courageous  step  of  a 
somnambulist  along  the  edge  of  precipices,  or  on 
exposed  and  dizzy  heights,  is  an  example.  Emo- 
tion is  often  increased  in  intensity  by  sleep,  and 
a  sleeper  will  scream  with  fear  at  trifles  which  he 
would  scarcely  notice  when  awake.  Any  friction 
of  the  cerebral  machinery  is  felt  and  extravagantly 
magnified.  When  awake,  ideas,  or  groups  of  ideas, 
produced  by  impressions  on  sensory  or  ideational 
cells,  are  recognized  as  subjective ;  when  asleep, 
reason  and  judgment  being  absent,  the  same  im- 
pression on  the  same  cells,  is  apt  to  be  regarded 
as  objective.     When  the  Greek  mask  of  tragedy 


VISIONS.  287 

appeared  on  the  ceiling  of  my  chamber,  after 
opium,  I  was  awake  and  instantly  recognized  its 
subjective  character.  In  sleep  its  subjective  na- 
ture would  not  have  been  recognized,  and  it  would 
have  been  a  dream. 

Such  are  some  of  the  conditions  and  character- 
istics of  sleep,  a  physical  state,  which  affords  an 
opportunity  for  a  display  of  the  phenomena  of 
dreams,  without  which  dreams  would  be  impos- 
sible, and  which  deserves  a  careful  study  by  all 
who  are  interested  in  them.  It  is  doubtful  if  in 
normal  sleep  dreams  ever  occur,  notwithstanding 
the  opinion  of  many  eminent  observers  to  the  con- 
trary. The  characteristics  of  sleep,  favorable  to 
dreams,  which  have  been  mentioned,  are  first,  and 
most  important,  the  predominance  in  the  cerebral 
machinery  of  automatic  over  volitional  control ; 
second,  the  process  of  repair,  by  which  cell  activ- 
ity is  produced  and  kept  up  ;  third,  a  tendency 
to  exaggerate  sensations,  emotions,  and  ideas  ;  and 
fourth,  the  inactivity  of  reason  and  judgment, 
supplemented  by  the  activity  of  unreason  and 
misrule. 

This  brief  survey  of  the  conditions  of  sleep 
forms  a  natural  introduction  to  an  examination  of 
the  visions  of  sleep.  Most  of  the  current  defini- 
tions of  dreams  have  been  framed  by  psycholo- 
gists, from  a  psychological  standpoint,  and  are  of 
course  of  very  little  value  to  a  physiologist,  or  to 
any  one  else.  They  are  chiefly  interesting  as  en- 
vious illustrations  of  the  different  notions  enter- 


288  VISIONS. 

tained  by  pliilosopbrirs  and  metaphysicians,  with 
regard  to  them,  and  of  the  loose  ideas  floating 
on  the  public  mind  concerning  the  whole  subject. 
Even  Sir  William  Hamilton's  definition  is  inac- 
curate and  obscure.  Approached  from  the  physi- 
ological side,  it  is  less  difficult  than  from  any 
other  to  get  a  distinct  view  of  dreams,  and  conse- 
quently less  difficult  from  that  standpoint  to  form 
a  tolerably  accurate  notion  of  their  character. 
Examined  from  that  point,  dreams  appear  to  be 
the  automatic  and  generally  irregular  revival  of 
impressions  made  upon  antecedently  sensitized 
cerebral  cell-groups,  or  elements,  whether  sensory, 
emotional,  motor,  ideational,  or  all  combined,  and 
the  ideation  produced  by  such  a  reproduction. 
The  cell-groups,  thus  revived,  may  be  those 
stamped  by  the  previous  day's  experience,  or 
those  stamped  by  the  experience  of  years  long 
gone  by,  or  a  medley  of  recent  and  old  impres- 
sions, attracted  to  each  other  by  associations  which 
admit  of  no  explanation. 

In  ancient  times  dreams  were  supposed  to  be 
prophetic.  Such  was  the  character  of  Joseph's 
dream  of  sheaves  ;  Pharaoh's  dream  of  fat  and 
lean  kine ;  Calpurnia's  dream  of  the  Ides  of 
March,  which,  ridiculed  by  Caesar,  was  supposed 
to  be  confirmed  by  the  dagger  of  Brutus ;  and 
numberless  other  dreams,  of  which  history  and 
tradition  have  preserved  the  record.  Tertullian 
regarded  dreams  as  messages,  sometimes  from  God 
and  sometimes  from  the  devil.     A  belief  in  the 


VISIONS.  289 

prophetic  or  ominous  character  of  dreams  has  not 
yet  disappeared.  How  many  persons  are  there, 
who,  visited  on  Monday  night  by  a  vivid  and  de- 
tailed dream  of  the  death  by  drowning  of  a  son, 
on  the  next  day,  Tuesday,  as  one  of  a  projected 
saihng  party,  would  not  use  every  effort  to  keep 
hira  away  from  the  excursion,  or,  if  this  were  im- 
possible, feel  greatly  relieved  at  his  safe  return  ? 
As  with  the  visions  of  the  dying,  so  with  the  vis- 
ions of  sleep,  the  human  mind  is  strongly  tempted 
to  believe  that  dreams  open  the  door  for  super- 
natural communications. 

The  charactei'istics  of  dreams  curiously  corre- 
spond to  the  conditions  of  sleep.  They  fit  into, 
or,  to  use  a  carpenter' s  phrase,  dovetail  into  each 
other.  The  opportunities  afforded  by  sleep  for  a 
brain  to  play  all  sorts  of  pranks  with  its  cells, 
granules,  and  elements  is  taken  advantage  of,  and 
dreams  are  the  outcome  of  its  unguarded  or  mor- 
bid action. 

One  of  the  marked  characteristics  of  dreams  is 
their  in'dependence  of  volition,  reason,  and  judg- 
ment, a  cerebral  condition  similar  to  that  which 
occurs  in  sleep.  It  is  a  curious  and  suggestive 
fact  that  the  retirement  of  the  blood  from  the 
frontal  lobes,  and  from  the  periphery  of  the  hem- 
ispheres, which  is  coincident  with  the  retirement 
of  volition,  reason,  and  judgment  from  activity, 
is  also  coincident  with  congestion  of  the  base  of 
the  brain,  with  unrestrained  if  not  with  augmented 
activity  of  sensory,  motor,  emotional,  and  autom- 

19 


290  VISIONS. 

atic  action,  and  with  sleep  and  dreams.  It  seems 
as  if  the  undiscovered  power  which  introduces 
sleep  and  permits  dreams,  while  doing  so,  plays 
upon  one  part  of  the  brain  in  such  a  way  as  to 
inhibit  blood  supply  and  the,  action  of  the  Ego, 
and  at  the  same  time  plays  upon  another  part  so 
as  to  increase  blood  supply,  and,  regardless  of  the 
Ego,  set  free  automatic  action.  At  any  rate,  with- 
out pushing  our  speculations  further  in  this  attrac- 
tive direction,  it  is  clear  that  there  is  a  susf)ension 
of  volitional  control  over  the  higher  and  lower 
cerebral  ganglia  when  dreaming.  Then  the  Ego 
becomes  a  passive  spectator,  and  generally  an  in- 
different one,  of  v/hatever  scenes  automatic  action 
produces.  It  should  be  remembered,  however, 
that  the  abdication  of  volition  in  dreams  is  never 
absolute  and  final.  Dreamers  are  sometimes  con- 
scious of  attempting  to  watch  and  guide  their 
dreams,  and  not  infrequently  of  an  effort  to  regain 
self-control.  If  a  dream  is  so  vivid  as  to  make 
the  excitement  it  produces  intense,  the  dreamer  is 
apt  to  awake,  when  volition,  reason,  and  judgment 
resume  their  functions.  This,  however,  occurs 
rarely.  The  rule  is  that  dreams  are  characterized 
by  an  absence  of  volition  from  the  field  of  cere- 
bral activity. 

Automatism  is  another  characteristic  of  dreams, 
as  well  as  of  sleep.  It  has  already  been  stated 
that  the  repair  of  nerve  tissue  is  most  actively 
carried  on  during  sleep.  It  is  scarcely  necessary 
to  add  that  this  repair  is  exclusively  an  automatic 


VISIONS.  291 

process,  which  implies,  at  that  period,  not  only 
unusual  activity,  but  unusual  sensitiveness  of  the 
automatic  machinery  of  the  brain.  Cells  and  cell 
elements  of  all  sorts  are  in  commotion,  and  in 
greater  or  less  numbers  are  brought  within  the 
sphere  of  automatic  influence.  Cell  groups  as- 
sociated by  near  and  easily  recognized  ties,  and 
those  united  by  distant,  obscure,  and  forgotten 
links,  are  pushed  or  drawn  up  into  the  field  of  in- 
tra-cranial  observation,  and  stimulate  the  visual, 
auditory,  motor,  or  other  cerebral  centre.  Thus 
excited,  these  nerve  centres  begin  to  functionate 
by  their  own  inherent  automatic  power  as  actively 
as  if  the  whole  brain  were  awake.  The  cell 
groups  thus  brought  together  form  the  organic 
basis,  or  hieroglyphics,  of  dreams.  Groups,  or 
elements,  which  at  any  time  during  the  dreamer's 
past  life  may  have  been  brought  together  within 
the  range  of  subjective  vision,  hearing,  motion, 
sensation,  or  ideation  may  be  and  often  are  drawn 
within  the  circle  of  automatic  action,  and  made 
the  subject  of  a  sort  of  automatic  contemplation. 
A  corpse  seen  yesterday  may  enter  into  last  night's 
dream.  Wffen  the  cell  groups  representing  that 
corpse  are  collected,  they  might  readily  attract  to 
themselves,  under  the  influence  of  automatism, 
another  set  of  groups  representing  the  first  corpse 
seen  in  childhood,  and  the  scene  of  its  burial. 
A  stranger  from  India,  who  mingled  with  the 
funeral  cortege,  might  be  recalled,  by  the  revival 
of  the  elements  representing  him,  and  with  him 


292  VISIONS. 

would  come  all  the  "  splendor  and  havoc  "  of  the 
East  with  which  the  dreamer  was  acquainted,  and 
so  on  indefinitely. 

Incongruity  and  incoherence  are  characteristics 
of  dreams  which  few  have  failed  to  recognize,  and 
which  dreams  would,  a  priori,  be  expected  to  ex- 
hibit. Volition  absent  and  automatism  supreme, 
congruity  aftd  coherence  could  not  be  anticipated 
from  the  fortuitous  revival  of  antecedently  stamped 
cells  and  cell  elements.  Children  have  a  game 
for  the  playing  of  which  cards,  inscribed  with  a 
single  letter,  word,  or  part  of  a  phrase,  are  thrown 
together  into  a  common  receptacle.  The  wit  of 
the  game  consists  in  withdrawing  the  cards  one  by 
one,  placing  them  in  a  line,  in  juxtaposition,  and 
reading  the  result.  Generally  only  a  meaning- 
less jumble  appears  ;  sometimes  a  familiar  .word 
is  formed,  and  rarely,  very  rarely,  an  intelligible 
phrase  crops  out  of  the  confusion.  When  this  oc- 
curs, the  wonder  of  the  players  reaches  the  highest 
degree  of  amazement.  Something  like  this  occurs 
in  dreams.  Sensitized  cells,  of  which  some  are 
inscribed  with  a  single  event  or  individual,  others 
with  complex  scenes  or  actions,  som^  belonging  to 
the  near,  others  to  the  remote  past,  and  possessing 
no  apparent  bond  of  union,  are  thrown  into  the 
sensorium  commune;  a  sort  of  common  receptacle 
and  there  they  are  arranged  together,  with  the 
result  of  obtaining  grotesque,  incoherent,  incon- 
gruous, and  vmexpected  forms,  and  of  exciting 
a  correspondingly  unexpected  and   unintelligible 


VISIONS.  293 

kind  of  ideation.  It  has  already  been  intimated 
that  in  normal  sleep  no  such  by-play  of  our  cere- 
bral machinery  takes  place.  All  is  quiet,  then. 
The  automatic  cell  revival  is  frequently  sufficient 
to  make  the  dreamer  remember  that  there  have 
been  visions  in  his  sleep,  but  not  sufficient  to  ena- 
ble him  to  recall  them.  Occasionally,  the  revived 
impressions  are  so  vivid  and  natural  as  to  arouse 
and  fix  the  attention  of  the  Ego,  and  be  remem- 
bered in  detail  on  awaking.  In  rare  instances,  the 
vividness  and  artistic  presentation  become  start- 
ling, and  the  dreamer  is  almost  persuaded,  perhaps 
is  really  convinced,  that  his  visions  had  an  objec- 
tive basis,  and  that  he  was  visited  by  a  supernat- 
ural message  or  messenger. 

From  this  brief  examination  of  some  of  the 
characteristics  of  dreams  it  is  evident  that  com- 
mon sense  takes  no  part  in  the  visions  of  sleep. 
Where  volition  is  wanting,  where  reason  and  judg- 
ment are  in  abeyance,  and  no  regard  is  paid  to  in- 
coherence of  thought  or  incongruity  of  action,  com- 
mon sense  cannot  be  expected  to  appear.  And 
such,  as  we  have  intimated,  is  the  fact.  A  dreamer 
regards  the  sti-angest  jumble  of  events,  the  most 
singular  confusion  of  thought,  and  the  most  unnat- 
ural ordering  of  life,  with  as  much  complacency 
and  satisfaction  as  he  derives  from  the  contempla- 
tion of  the  noblest  actions,  or  the  manifestations  of 
supreme  order  and  beauty.  He  is  not  disturbed 
because  a  man  in  Boston  converses  with  his  wife 
in  Calcutta ;  or  a  corpse  drives  itself  to  the  grave, 


294  VISIONS. 

instead  of  being  driven  there ;  or  a  mosquito  as- 
sumes the  proportions  of  an  elephant ;  or  a  child 
of  five  Seasons  with  the  wisdom  of  Solomon.  To 
him  all  this  is  credible  and  natural.  But  still 
more  surprising  than  the  absence  of  common 
sense  from  dreams  is  the  entire  absence  of  the 
moral  sense  from  them.  This  too  is  to  be  ex- 
pected, for  a  mechanism  has  no  soul.  Automa- 
tism will  yield  order  and  perfection  of  workman- 
ship, but  it  can  never  breed  love  of  goodness  or 
hatred  of  evil.  The  dreamer  regards  virtue  and 
vice,  an  act  of  violence  and  a  deed  of  love,  fiends 
and  angels,  all  that  is  good  and  all  that  is  evil, 
with  an  equal  eye.  It  is  recorded  by  a  recent 
writer  that  a  certain  Mr.  D.  of  Edinburgh  dreamed 
he  ran  his  best  friend  through  with  a  sword.  In 
his  account  of  the  dream,  Mr.  D.  states  that  he 
was  not  at  all  disturbed  by  his  commission  of  the 
deed,  or  the  death  of  his  friend.  On  the  contrary, 
he  was  pleased  with  his  own  expertness  as  a 
swordsman,  and  watched  with  simple  curiosity 
the  effect  of  his  blow,  and  was  delighted  to  see 
how  accurately  the  point  of  his  sword  came  out 
from  the  body  of  his  friend,  almost  precisely  op- 
posite the  point  at  which  he  had  caused  it  to  enter. 
His  delight  was  that  of  a  marksman  who  hits  his 
mark.  Similar  illustrations  might  be  multiplied 
indefinitely,  but  it  is  unnecessary  to  give  any  more 
of  them.  The  reader's  own  experience  and  reflec- 
tion will  be  sufiicient  to  confirm  the  truth  of  the 
statement  that  the  moral  sense  does  not  enter  into 


VISIONS.  295 

dream  life.  A  troubled  conscience  may  produce 
dreams,  but  dreams  themselves  are  not  troubled 
by  a  conscience  of  any  sort. 

By  the  statement  that  the  visions  of  sleep  lack 
the  guidance  of  volition,  and  are  independent  of 
reason,  judgment,  common  sense,  and  the  moral 
sense,  it  is  not  intended  to  assert  that  they  are 
independent  of  intellection  also.  So  far  is  this 
from  being  the  case  that,  within  certain  limits, 
the  opposite  of  it  is  true.  The  dreamer  reasons, 
not  as  he  would  do  if  he  were  awake,  but  in  a 
way  satisfactory  to  himself.  Moreover,  his  con- 
clusions always  seem  to  him  to  be  valid.  He  is 
never  surprised  at  any  result  at  which  he  may 
arrive.  Indeed,  it  is  one  of  the  characteristics  of 
dreams  to  be  free  from  the  element  of  surprise. 
If  a  dreamer,  who  feels  a  pain  in  his  toe,  infers, 
possibly  stimulated  to  the  inference  by  the  heat 
of  his  room,  that  Mount  -^tna  is  pressing  upon 
his  foot,  he  is  not  disturbed  by  the  conclusion,  but 
readily  accepts  it.  One  of  the  chief  difficulties  in 
the  way  of  comprehending  the  natural  history  and 
physiology  of  dreams  is  found  in  the  fact  that/ 
reason  is  absent  from  dreams,  and  yet  that  the 
dreamer  reasons.  A  portion  of  the  difficulty 
would  disappear  if  it  were  borne  in  mind  that 
reason  and  reasoning  are  not  the  same  things. 
Reason  is  a  faculty  of  the  mind,  or,  if  a  different 
phrase  is  preferred,  an  attribute  of  the  Ego,  gifted 
with  the  divine  power  and  privilege  of  recognizing 
truth,  of   discriminating  good    from  evil,  and  so 


•296  VISIONS. 

of  acting  as  a  guide  to  humanity,  through  the 
mazes  of  error  to  the  loftiest  heights  of  truth. 
This  faculty  takes  no  part  in  dreams.  Reasoning, 
on  the  contrary,  is  a  process,  not  a  faculty  ;  and  it 
may  be  good  or  bad,  logical  or  illogical,  sound  or 
absurd.  It  is  altogether  independent  of  reason. 
Hence,  there  is  no  contradiction  in  asserting  that 
a  dreamer  reasons,  but  does  not  use  his  reason. 
Reasoning  enters  largely  into  the  texture  of 
dreams,  but  is  not  in  them  subjected  to  the  test 
of  reason.  Bearing  this  distinction  in  mind,  it  is 
not  difficult  to  conceive  that  in  dreams,  where 
reason  is  absent,  the  most  absurd  reasoning  should 
be  carried  on.  Moreover,  if  physiology  should 
demonstrate,  by  and  by,  as  it  probably  will,  that 
reasoning  is  a  mechanical  process,  performed  in 
our  waking  hours  under  the  guidance  of  the  Ego, 
by  the  machinery  of  the  brain,  and  therefoi'e 
automatic,  it  will  then  be  evident  that  the  reason- 
ing of  dreams  is  only  a  part  of  the  automatic  ac- 
tion which  is  their  chief  characteristic.  There  are 
some  remarkable  instances  on  record  of  great  in- 
tellectual effort  in  dreams.  Condillac's  composi- 
tion of  a  part  of  his  Cours  d^^tudes  is  an  illustra- 
tion in  point.  The  writer  is  acquainted  with  a 
gentleman  who  performed  a  long  and  difficult 
piece  of  intellectual  work  with  accuracy,  in  a 
dream.  He  was  in  college  at  the  time  and  har- 
assed by  work.  On  one  occasion,  he  was  sur- 
prised at  finding  himself  sitting  up,  in  his  night- 
clothes,  at  his  study  table,  an  hour  or  two  after 


VISIONS.  297 

midnight,  with  a  task  accomplished  which,  on  the 
evening  previous,  he  was  unable  to  comprehend. 
Carpenter  calls  such  labor  unconscious  cerebration. 
By  using  such  a  term  he  indicates  its  automatic 
character. 

Dreamers  have  been  compared  to  children,  and 
dreams  to  children's  fancies.  The  comparison  is 
not  a  fortunate  one.  For  children  possess  the 
germs  of  all  the  faculties  of  adult  life,  none  being 
in  abeyance.  It  would  be  more  accurate  to  say 
that  dreamers  resemble  animals,  who  exhibit  the 
force  of  automatic  action,  with  little  or  no  inter- 
ference from  other  sources.  It  is  worthy  of  re- 
mark in  this  connection,  that  in  regard  to  the 
absence  of  moral  sense  from  dreams,  to  which  allu- 
sion has  already  been  made,  dreamers  and  animals 
are  alike.  Perhaps  the  best  distinction  between 
man  and  the  animal  creation  below  him,  is  the 
fact,  that  man  is  the  only  animal  that  calls  him- 
self to  account  for  his  own  actions.  When  a  dog 
worries  a  cat,  there  is  no  evidence  that  he  retires, 
after  his  amusement  is  over,  to  consider  whether 
he  has  been  engaged  in  a  good  or  an  evil  action, 
and  to  call  himself  to  an  account,  accordingly. 
There  is  no  evidence  that  any  of  the  lower  ani- 
mals ever  enter  into  this  sort  of  self-examination. 
Man  alone  does  this.  Man  alone  calls  himself  to 
account  for  his  own  deeds,  irrespective  of  the  fear 
:)f  punishment,  or  the  hope  of  reward.  In  dreams 
this  distinction  is  obliterated,  and  the  dreamer, 
losing  the  moral  sense,  is  assimilated  to  a  lower 


298  VISIONS. 

order  of  beings.  It  is  possible  that  this  fact  gives 
us  a  hint  of  what  animals  sometimes  seem  to  be 
thinking  of.  Who  that  has  watched  a  horse,  gaz- 
ing intently  upon  some  passing  show  ;  or  a  cow, 
quietly  ruminating  in  the  shade  of  a  tree  ;  or  a 
dog,  watching  a  body  of  laborers  at  work ;  or  a 
cat  musing  before  the  fire  ;  or  a  canary  bird,  in- 
tently listening  to  the  gossip  of  a  family  breakfast 
near  its  cage,  has  not  wondered  what  these  ani- 
mals were  thinking  of?  Possibly  like  dreamers 
they  are  simply  watching,  without  any  regard  to 
the  quality  of  the  action,  how  the  thing  will  come 
out.  Often  stimulated  by  what  they  see  to  the 
most  strange  and  fantastic  actions,  their  fancies, 
like  a  dreamer's  ideation,  are  strange,  grotesque, 
and  meaningless  ;  and  so  are  dreams. 

It  has  been  stated  by  some  observers,  that 
dreams  are  not  wholly  deprived  of  the  guidance 
of  volition,  or  of  a  certain  amount  of  judgment. 
The  evident  attempts  at  harmony  of  combination 
and  selection  of  objects  of  attention,  which  dreams 
have  sometimes  exhibited,  have  been  regarded  as 
evidence  that  reason,  judgment,  and  volition  are 
not  always  and  wholly  excluded  from  the  visions 
of  sleep.  This  conclusion  is  not  warranted  by 
the  facts  of  physiology.  On  the  contrary,  the 
amount  and  sort  of  volition  which  appear  in 
dreams  and  the  apparent  exercise  of  choice  which 
they  put  forth  are  evidences,  not  of  the  action  of 
the  Ego,  but  of  automatic  power.  The  thorough 
•materialist  resolves  all  volition  into  reflex  or  au- 


VISIONS.  299 

tomatic  action,  pretty  good  evidence,  not  of  the 
correctness  of  his  conclusions,  but  of  the  fact  that 
a  large  amount  of  what  has  been  regarded  hitherto 
as  belonging  to  the  function  of  the  mind  and  the 
will  is  really  automatic.  Probably  no  j^bysiologist 
at  the  present  day  would  refer  the  small  amount 
of  spontaneous  action  and  attention  which  dreams 
exhibit,  to  any  other  source  than  automatism. 
The  character  of  the  reflex  function  of  the  nerv- 
ous system  was  so  fully  explained  and  illustrated 
in  the  first  part  of  this  essay,  that  it  is  only  nec- 
essary to  refer  to  it  here  as  a  chief  factor  in  the 
pi-oduction  of  that  sort  of  movement  in  dreams, 
which  seems  to  be  the  result  of  volition  and  at- 
tention. The  highest  and  most  delicate  opera- 
tions of  automatic  action  are  so  like  spontaneity 
and  conscious  attention,  that  this  sort  of  automa- 
tism is  sometimes  called  automatic  volition  and 
automatic  attention.  No  kind  of  selection  is  so 
exact,  and  apparently  intelligent  as  that  which  is 
automatic.  Put  a  dozen  bits  of  iron  filings  and  a 
dozen  grains  of  broken  granite  together  on  a  table, 
hold  over  and  near  them  a  magnet,  and  the  mag- 
net will  select  and  pick  up  the  iron  with  unerring 
certainty.  If  a  dog  is  following  his  lost  master 
over  a  public  highway,  and  comes  to  a  place 
where  the  road  divides  into  several  paths,  all  of 
which  bear  the  impress  of  innumerable  human 
foot-prints,  inextricably  blended  together,  the  dog 
will  unhesitatingly  select  and  follow  his  master's 
foot-print.     In  the  case  of  the  magnet  there  is 


300  VISIONS. 

simply  selection  ;  in  the  case  of  the  dog,  there  are 
both  selection  and  volition.  The  dog  selects  his 
master's  foot-print  and  determines  to  follow  it. 
In  both  cases  the  actions  are  automatic.  And  so 
in  the  visions  of  sleep  a  cell-group,  drawn  within 
the  circle  of  automatic  influence,  may  be  so  sensi- 
tized that  like  the  magnet  it  attracts  certain  other 
cell-groups,  thus  exercising  what  seems  to  be  in- 
telligent selection.  And  as  a  dog,  after  receiving 
the  impression  of  a  special  odor,  determines  to 
follow  the  foot-print  which  exhales  it,  so  a  nerve 
ganglion,  after  receiving  the  impression  of  a  pain 
in  the  foot,  decides  to  send  a  motor  influence 
down  to  the  motor  apparatus  of  the  foot  and  re- 
move the  suffering  part.  This  act,  which  is  ap- 
parently volitional,  is  automatic.  Cells,  or  cell- 
groups,  which  possess  an  affinity  for  each  other, 
attract  each  other  ;  and  this  they  do  irrespective 
of  volition.  Throw  a  handful  of  sand  upon  a 
drum-head,  and  let  a  person  play  an  instrument 
of  music  near  by,  and  the  sand  will  arrange  it- 
self in  orderly  lines  and  harmonious  groups  ;  let 
a  number  of  brain  cells,  impressed,  like  the  nega- 
tive of  a  photograph,  with  past  individuals,  events, 
scenes,  men,  rivers,  trees,  all  that  makes  up  the 
scenery  of  life,  be  present  in  the  brain,  as  they 
are  in  the  silence  of  the  night,  and  then  let  some 
strain  of  music  strike  the  ear,  or  a  cool  blast  of 
air  sweep  over  the  face,  or  a  crack  in  the  wood- 
work go  off  like  a  pistol,  or  a  child  scream  in  a 
neighboring  room,  or  the  colic  from  an  undigested 


VISIONS.  301 

potato  send  up  a  sudden  pain  into  the  brain,  and 
the  brain  cells  lying  there,  unstable  and  unexcited, 
will  arrange  themselves  into  some  sort  of  grouping 
in  harmony  with  the  strain  of  music,  the  scream, 
or  the  colic,  just  as  the  sand  heaps  arrange 
themselves  on  a  drum-head  in  harmony  with  the 
note  of  a  flute,  or  a  strain  from  Nilsson's  throat. 
This  combination,  with  the  ideas  it  produces,  is 
a  dream.  This  harmony  of  adjustment  seems  to 
indicate  intelligence  and  volition,  while  in  reality 
it  is  no  more  so  than  the  harmonious  jumping 
about  of  sand  on  the  drum-head. 

Another  characteristic  of  dreams,  and  one  by  no 
means  to  be  neglected,  is  the  apparent  rapidity  of 
action  which  they  exhibit.  Events,  which  in  our 
waking  life  require  years  for  their  occurrence,  take 
place  in  the  course  of  a  few  days,  hours,  or  min- 
utes. A  child  may  grow  in  our  dreams  from  in- 
fancy to  manhood  in  a  few  moments.  A  dream 
may  witness  the  beginning  and  end  of  a  civil  war. 
A  dreamer,  regardless  of  the  difference  of  time 
which  separates  Csesar  from  General  Grant,  would 
place  himself  at  a  dinner  table  between  the  two, 
and  chat  with  them  as  contemporaries.  A  friend, 
who  called  upon  the  writer  yesterday,  dreamed 
the  night  previous  that  he  took  a  walk  with  the 
Reverend  Lyman  Beecher,  and  the  elder  Josiah 
Quincy  of  Boston,  and  was  not  at  all  surprised  at 
their  simultaneous  appearance  as  his  companions. 
Space  is  annihilated  in  dreams  as  well  as  time. 
The  world  is  dwarfed  to  the  compass  of  a  dream- 


302  VISIONS. 

er's  arms.  B,  in  Boston  talks  with  C.  in  Calcutta 
as  easily  as  if  they  sat  in  chairs  that  touched  each 
other.  An  allusion  was  made  a  little  way  back  to 
the  fact,  tliat  sleep  resembles  death ;  and  it  is  the 
best  counterfeit  of  the  great  mystery  that  we  know 
anything  of.  It  is  a  curious  and  suggestive 
thought  that  dreams,  which  occur  only  in  sleep, 
and  so  occur  only  in  a  state  which  bears  the  like- 
ness of  death,  should  be  characterized  by  a  fact 
which,  if  there  be  any  future  life,  can  only  be 
realized  in  that  future  existence.  The  fact  to 
which  we  refer  is  the  characteristic  just  men- 
tioned, that  dreams  are  free  from  the  limitations 
of  time  and  space.  The  dreamer,  partially  es- 
caped from  the  fetters  of  the  flesh,  roams  like  a 
disembodied  spirit,  without  time  or  space  to  hinder 
him.  In  the  future  life  there  can  be  no  such 
thing  as  time.  A  thousand  years  are  as  one  day, 
and  one  day  as  a  thousand  years.  In  the  future 
life  thei'e  can  be  no  such  thing  as  space.  New 
England,  Australia,  in  that  existence,  are  neigh- 
bors to  the  mountains  in  the  moon,  to  Arcturus 
and  the  Milky  Way.  This  must  be  so,  or  there  is 
no  future  life.  A  child  dies  in  Yokohama,  and  the 
instant  the  soul  leaps  from  the  body,  it  can  talk 
to  its  earthly  parent  in  Boston,  as  if  the  Pacific 
and  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  the  prairies  did  not 
intervene.  And  thus  it  happens  that  one  of  the 
strangest  facts  of  dream  life  —  a  life  that  exists 
only  in  sleep,  and  comes  and  goes  like  a  flash,  — 
hints  at  a  life  which  has  neither  beginning  nor 


VISIONS.  303 

end,  and  is  bounded  by  no  limits  which  human 
thought  can  compass. 

Tiiese  are  some  of  the  characteristics  of  dreatns. 
Others  might  be  mentioned,  but  these  are  enough 
to  show  how  singularly  and  curiously  they  har- 
monize with  the  conditions  of  sleep.  They  are 
simply  the  unconscious  cerebration  of  that  por- 
tion of  the  brain,  over  which  sleep  has  no  power. 
Sleep  affords  the  opportunity,  within  certain  lim- 
its, for  the  brain  to  act  of  itself,  and  dreams  are 
the  result. 

Dreams  exhibit  every  possible  variety.  They 
may  be  roughly  classified  thus :  first,  simple 
dreams ;  second,  medleys ;  and  third,  artistic 
dreams. 

Simple  dreams  consist  of  a  single  event  or  scene. 
Sometimes  they  are  concerned  only  with  a  single 
individual,  as  when  one  dreams  of  seeing  the  face 
or  form  of  a  relative  or  friend,  without  any  attend- 
ant circumstances ;  sometimes  they  are  concerned 
with  a  single  occurrence,  like  falling  down  a  preci- 
pice, or  breaking  one's  nose,  or  swallowing  a  snake, 
or  starting  on  a  journey,  or  receiving  or  giving  an 
injury,  or  a  benefit,  or  in  some  way  being  the  sub- 
ject or  the  spectator  of  some  common  or  strange, 
expected  or  unforeseen,  pleasant  or  horrible,  oc- 
currence. They  are  a  play  in  a  single  act.  The 
second  class  of  dreams  or  medleys  are  perhaps  the 
most  common  of  all.  They  consist  of  several  in- 
dividuals or  events,  mixed  up  in  a  strange  and 
incongruous  way.     Oftentimes  they  are  composed 


304  VISIONS. 

of  a  series  of  disconnected  events  or  scenes,  the 
details  of  which  are  filled  with  animals,  and  ob- 
jects, and  human  beings,  fairies,  grotesque  crea- 
tions and  equally  grotesque  combinations,  and  all 
the  odd  stuff  with  which  dreamers  are  familiar. 
Sometimes  it  is  possible  to  trace  the  threads  of 
connection  which  draw  such  a  medley  together, 
but  more  commonly  they  escape  the  most  cai'eful 
scrutiny.  That  there  is  some  secret  attraction, 
which  draws  these  images  into  the  field  of  auto- 
matic cerebral  activity  during  sleep,  when  the 
higher  centres  of  the  brain  are  quiet,  cannot  be 
doubted.  Such  visions  of  sleep  are  plays  in  sev- 
eral acts,  of  which  the  various  parts  are  thrown 
confusedly  together,  and  the  actors  drawn  from 
the  past  experience  of  the  dreamer's  life.  Artistic 
dreams  are  of  occasional  though  not  of  frequent 
occurrence.  They  are  made  up  of  individuals, 
events,  and  scenes,  which  form  more  or  less  of  an 
harmonious  combination.  Like  pictures  which  ar- 
tists call  compositions,  they  are  made  up  of  de- 
tails, taken  like  the  details  of  a  medley  from  life's 
varied  expei'ience,  and  harmoniously  blended,  so 
that  the  whole  forms  a  scene,  or  a  series  of  scenes, 
which  are  startling  on  account  of  their  appearance 
of  vivid  reality.  Such  dreams  do  not  often  take 
place,  but  when  they  do  they  are  regarded  by 
some  persons  with  a  sort  of  superstitious  awe,  as 
prophecies  of  the  future,  or  interpreters  of  the 
present.  Examples  are  better  than  description ; 
and  therefore  let  us  endeavor  to  use  the  doctiine 


VISIONS.  305 

of  the  preceding  pages  as  a  key  to  the  explana- 
tion of  a  few  di'eams,  given  as  iUustrations  of  the 
visions  of  sleep. 

A  young  medical  gentleman,  busy  with  his  pro- 
fessional studies,  had  occasion  to  spend  the  night 
at  the  house  of  a  stranger.  His  host  was  an  in- 
valid. The  house  as  well  as  its  occupants  were 
unfamiliar  to  the  guest.  Before  retiring  the  vis- 
itor, whom  we  will  call  Mr.  H.,  called  upon  his 
host  and  bade  him  good-night  in  his  bed.  Mr. 
H.  was  then  conducted  to  his  own  chamber  by 
the  daughter  of  his  host  and  a  female  servant. 
Sometime  during  the  niglit  he  dreamed  that  he  was 
in  a  strange  place.  Where  it  was,  and  what  he 
was  there  for,  he  did  not  know.  Presently  he 
saw  a  bed  in  his  room  and  apparently  somebody 
in  the  bed.  He  got  up  to  find  out  who  had  in- 
truded upon  him,  when  he  found  that  a  bed  was 
really  there,  and  that  there  lay  stretched  at  full 
length  upon  it  a  female,  covered  with  a  sort  of 
drapery,  and  having  an  extremely  pale  counte- 
nance. A  closer  examination  showed  that  she 
was  dead,  and  laid  out  like  a  corpse.  Not  fancy- 
ing a  neighbor  of  that  sort,  he  was  about  to  re- 
monstrate with  his  host  for  being  put  into  a 
chamber  thus  occupied,  when  he  awoke,  and  it 
was  a  dream.  This  belongs  to  the  class  of  simple 
dreams,  and  liappens  to  admit  of  an  easy  expla- 
nation. Its  chief  interest  lies  in  the  fact  that  it 
illustrates  the  principles  which  have  here  been  en- 
forced.    Mr.  H.  was  a  medical  student.     He  was, 

20 


306  VISIONS. 

of  course,  a  good  deal  occupied  with  the  labor  and 
occupants  of  the  dissecting-room.  Corpses  of 
both  sexes  and  all  ages,  placed  in  all  sorts  of  posi- 
tions, and  wearing  all  sorts  of  expressions,  were 
familiar  to  him.  Groups  of  brain  cells  and  cell 
elements,  the  hieroglyphic  representatives  of  these 
ghastly  beings,  were  latent  in  his  brain,  ready  at 
any  time  to  be  evoked.  With  this  sort  of  furni- 
ture in  his  brain,  he  spent  the  night  at  a  strange 
house  among  strange  people.  One  of  the  last 
things  he  saw  before  retiring  was  a  sick  man 
stretched  upon  a  bed.  Among  the  very  last  ob- 
jects pictured  upon  his  brain,  before  going  to 
sleep,  were  two  females  who  conducted  him  to  his 
chamber.  Moreover,  it  happened  that  the  few 
minutes  conversation  which  he  held  with  his  host 
as  he  bade  him  good-night,  were  about  death  and 
dying.  From  this  it  appeal's  that  Mr.  H.,  hav- 
ing a  brain  furnished  with  dissecting  room  pic- 
tures, went  to  bed  in  a  strange  house,  among 
strange  people,  having  just  before  going  to  sleep 
talked  about  death,  seen  a  sick  man  stretched 
upon  a  couch  and  looked  upon  twa  females  who 
ushered  him  into  his  chamber.  After  he  got  to 
sleep,  a  slight  attack  of  indigestion,  enough  to 
make  him  grit  his  teeth  and  groan  faintly,  stimu- 
lated the  automatic  activity  of  his  brain  ;  and  his 
brain,  thus  stimulated,  produced  the  dream,  which 
was  in  reality  a  reproduction  of  what  was  familiar 
to  him.  Sleeping  in  a  strange  place  made  him 
dream  that  he  was  transported  to  some  mysterious 


VISIONS.  307 

locality.  Talking  about  dying  brought  death 
into  his  dream.  Associated  with  death  came  the 
familiar  corpses  of  the  dissecting  room.  His  host 
sick  on  a  bed,  brought  the  sick  bed  and  reclining 
figure  into  his  room,  while  the  females  who  bade 
him  good-night  turned  the  figure  from  a  man  into 
a  woman.  Thus  it  appears  that  all  the  stuff  of  his 
dream  was  in  the  cells  of  his  brain,  and  indiges- 
tion set  the  machinery  at  work  which  combined 
them  into  a  picture. 

The  following  incident,  which  is  a  curious  illus- 
tration of  the  automatic  dream  power  of  the  brain, 
occurred  to  Lord  Brougham,  and  is  given  here  in 
his  own  language  :  — 

"  Tired  with  the  cold  of  yesterday,  I  was  glad  to  take 
advantage  of  a  hot  bath  before  I  turned  in.  And  here 
a  most  remarkable  thing  happened  to  me  —  so  remark- 
able that  1   must  tell    the    story  from   the  beginning. 

After  I  left  the  High  School,  I  went  with  G ,  my 

most  intimate  friend,  to  attend  the  classes  in  the  Uni- 
versity. There  was  no  divinity  class,  but  we  frequently 
in  our  walks  discussed  and  speculated  upon  many  grave 
subjects,  among  others,  on  the  immortality  of  the  soul, 
and  on  a  future  state.  This  question  and  the  possibility, 
I  will  not  say  of  ghosts  walking,  but  of  the  dead  ap- 
pearing to  the  living,  were  subjects  of  much  speculation  ; 
and  we  actually  committed  the  folly  of  drawing  up  an 
agreement,  w7-itten  with  our  blood,  to  the  effect  that 
whichever  of  us  died  the  first  should  appear  to  the 
other,  and  thus  solve  any  doubts  we  had  entertained  of 
the  "  life  after  death."  After  we  had  finished  our  classes 
at  the  college,  G went  to  India,  having  got  an  ap- 


308  VISIONS. 

pointment  there  in  the  civil  service.  He  seldom  wrote 
to  me,  and  after  tlie  lapse  of  a  few  years  I  had  almost 
forgotten  him  :  moreover,  his  family  having  little  connec- 
tion with  Edinburgh,  I  seldom  saw  or  heard  anything 
of  them,  or  of  him  through  them,  so  that  all  the  old 
school-boy  intimacy  had  died  out,  and  I  had  nearly  for- 
gotten his  existence.  I  had  taken,  as  I  have  said,  a 
warm  bath  ;  and  while  lying  in  it  and  enjoying  the  com- 
fort of  the  heat  after  the  late  freezing  I  had  undergone, 
I  turned  my  head  round,  looking  toward  the  chair  on 
which  I  had  deposited  my  clothes,  as  I  was  about  to 

get  up  out  of  the  bath.     On  the  chair  sat  G looking 

calmly  at  me.  How  I  got  out  of  the  bath  I  knew  not, 
but  on  recovering  my  senses  I  found  myself  sprawling 
on  the  floor.     The  apparition,  or  whatever  it  was,  that 

had  taken  the  likeness  of  G ,  had  disappeared ;  the 

vision  produced  such  a  shock  that  I  had  no  inclination 
to  talk  about  it,  or  to  speak  about  it  even  to  Stuart, 
but  the  imjaression  it  made  upon  me  was  too  vivid  to  be 
easily  forgotten  ;  and  so  strongly  was  I  affected  by  it, 
that  I  have  here  written  down  the  whole  history,  with 
the  date,  19th  December,  and  all  the  particulars  as  they 
are  now  fresh  before  me.  No  doubt  I  had  fallen 
asleep ;  and  that  the  appearance  presented  so  distinctly 
to  my  eyes  was  a  dream,  I  cannot  for  a  moment  doubt ; 

yet  for  years  I  had  no  communication  with  G ,  nor 

had  there  been  anything  to  recall  him  to  my  recollec- 
tion ;    nothing   had   taken    place    during    our    Swedish 

travels  either  connected  with  G ,  or  with  India,  or 

with  anything  relating  to  him,  or  to  any  member  of  his 
family."  .... 

More  that  half  a  century  later  Lord  Brougham 
supplemented  the  preceding  account  by  the  fol- 
lowhig  note :  — 


VISIONS.  309 

"E.  Brougham,  Oct.  16,  1862. 
I  have  just  been  copying  out  from  my  journal  the 
account  of  this  strange  dream  :  Certissima  mortis  imago  ! 
And  now  to  finish  the  story  begun  about  sixty  years 
since.  Soon  after  my  return  to  Edinburgh  there  ar- 
rived a  letter  from  India  announcing  G.'s  death !  and 
stating  that  he  had  died  on  the  19tli  of  December ! !  "  -^ 

Many  of  the  data  necessary  to  a  satisfactory 
explanation  of  this  singular  vision,  are  not  to  be 
found  in  Lord  Brougham's  account  of  it ;  but 
enough  are  given,  however,  to  enable  a  physiolo- 
gist to  frame  a  probable  and  reasonable  explana- 
tion. It  will  be  noticed  that  this  description  gives 
an  account  of  two  entirely  different  phenomena. 
One  is  the  vision  which  appeared  to  Lord  Brough- 
am in  his  bath ;  the  other,  the  death  of  his  friend 
G.  in  India.  These  two  phenomena,  the  vision 
in  England,  and  the  death  in  India,  should  not  be 
confounded  together.  They  are  not  necessarily 
parts  of  the  same  event,  and  we  must  not  hastily 
assume  that  they  bear  the  relation  to  each  other 
of  cause  and  effect  because  the  vision  and  the 
death  occurred  simultaneously.  Let  the  fact  of 
G.'s  death,  at  the  time  of  the  vision,  be  laid  aside 
for  the  present  and  the  vision  alone  considered. 

The  facts  are  these.  When  Lord  Brougham 
was  a  young  man,  gifted,  as  the  world  knows  he 
was,  with  intellectual  power  of  the  highest  order, 
he  became  intimate  with  another  young  man  of 

1  The  Life  and  Letters  of  Henry  Lord  Brougham,  written  by  him' 
self.    New  York,  1871.     Vol.  i.,  p.  146. 


810  VISIONS. 

congenial  tastes,  and  undoubtedly  of  considerable 
intellectual  force.  As  fellow  students  they  dis- 
cussed, it  appears,  some  of  the  greatest  themes 
with  which  the  human  mind  ever  grapples,  such 
as  immortality,  God,  the  problems  of  human  life, 
and  similar  themes  ;  some  of  which  Lord  Brough- 
am has  since  studied  and  expounded  with  singular 
ability.  It  is  difficult  to  conceive  of  circumstances, 
better  calculated  than  these  to  impress,  power- 
fully and  profoundly,  the  mind  of  one  so  gifted  as 
Lord  Brougham.  Impressions  naturally  made  by 
such  discussions  as  have  been  described,  were 
deepened  by  a  compact,  made  with  all  the  folly 
and  enthusiasm  of  which  genius  is  capable,  and 
consecrated  and  sealed  with  the  blood  of  those 
who  made  it.  Like  the  oath  of  Grutli,  the  com- 
pact was  intended  to  be  sacred  and  inviolate, 
reaching  beyond  this  life  into  the  next.  The  cells 
of  young  Brougham's  brain  must  have  been 
stamped,  more  deeply  than  ever  before  by  any 
other  event,  with  the  features  of  his  friend  G.'s 
face,  and  with  the  ideas  and  hopes  and  resolutions 
which  the  compact  thej^  had  entered  into  inspired. 
G.  disappeared  from  the  orbit  of  Brougham's  life. 
The  brain  cells  which  had  been  thus  stamped, 
sensitized  like  a  photographic  plate,  were  laid  away 
in  the  recesses  of  Brougham's  brain.  There  they 
were  deposited,  the  hieroglj^phic  representations  of 
G.'s  face  and  form  and  of  the  compact  and  the 
attendant  ideas,  like  a  portrait  in  a  garret,  or  a 
manuscript  in  a  drawer,  ready  to  be  brought  out, 


VISIONS.  311 

whenever  anything  should  occur,  capable  of  drag- 
ging them  into  the  light.  The  cells  remained 
latent  in  Brougham's  brain  for  a  long  period,  with- 
out anything  to  call  them  into  the  region  of  per- 
ception. Still  the  cells  were  there ;  they  were 
deeply  stamped  and  were  in  a  condition  to  be 
called  into  activity  at  any  time.  With  a  brain 
containing  the  cell-group  referred  to,  Lord  Brough- 
am got  a  chill,  while  travelling  in  Sweden,  and 
after  the  chill  refreshed  himself,  with  what  he 
says  was  a  warm  bath.  It  is  evident  from  the 
result  of  the  bath,  that  the  water  was  hot  rather 
than  warm.  Lord  Brougham  got  from  the  heat 
to  which  he  exposed  himself  a  congestion  of  the 
brain.  The  congestion  clearly  was  not  apoplexy, 
yet  it  was  near  being  so,  for  he  says  that  he  fell 
asleep  but  still  contrived  to  get  out  of  his  bath- 
tub, and  then  fell  upon  the  floor,  unconscious. 
It  will  be  remembered  that  a  moderate  anjemia 
of  the  periphery  of  the  brain,  and  a  moderate  hy- 
peraemia  of  the  base  of  the  brain  are  among  the 
conditions  of  sleep,  and  consequently  of  dreams 
which  occur  only  in  sleep.  The  congestion  pro- 
duced by  the  bath  naturally  intensified  these  con- 
ditions. What  Lord  Brougham  had  been  talking 
about  with  his  friend,  Stuart,  shortly  before  the 
bath,  does  not  appear  from  the  description ;  but 
it  would  be  strange  if  the  subjects  of  God  and 
a  future  life  did  not  enter  into  their  conversa- 
tion, when  we  reflect  that  such  subjects  occupied 
0,  very  large  share  of  Lord  Brougham's  attention 


312  VISIONS. 

and  study  during  liis  whole  life.  We  know  from 
his  account  of  the  case,  that  he  examined  and  dis- 
cussed them  with  G.  Such  a  discussion,  added  to 
the  stimulus  of  a  warm  bath,  would  be  sufficient 
to  bring  within  the  sphere  of  automatic  activity 
the  latent  cell-groups  which  were  the  represent- 
atives of  G.  The  groups  appearecj ;  subjective 
vision  was  accomplished ;  and  Lord  Brougham 
saw  the  friend  of  his  youth  apparently  projected 
into  space  before  him. 

The  connection  between  the  death  of  G.  in 
India,  and  the  vision  in  Brougham's  brain,  is  prob- 
ably only  that  of  coincidence.  At  any  rate,  phys- 
iology has  no  explanation  to  offer  of  such  a  phe- 
nomenon. Those  who  believe  that  it  is  more 
than  coincidence  must  seek  for  an  explanation  by 
means  which  science  cannot  employ,  and  in  a 
region  into  which  physiology  cannot  enter.  And, 
moreover,  such  persons  must  not  forget  the  fact 
previously  mentioned,  that  the  future  life  is  not 
conditioned  by  time  or  space  ;  so  that  when  G. 
died  in  India  he  was  as  near  Brougham  in  Eng- 
land as  if  they  were  in  the  same  room.  Hence, 
looking  at  the  vision  from  the  spiritual  side,  we 
can  conceive  how  G.,  having  no  limits  of  space 
between  him  and  Brougham  at  the  moment  of 
death,  should  at  that  moment  instantly  be  near 
him.  But  how  G.  could  communicate  with  Lord 
Brougham  is  again  a  matter  about  which  we  are 
utterly  ignorant.  In  reality,  we  do  not  know  how 
we  communicate  with  each  other.    The  lips  open, 


VISIONS.  313 

the  tongue  moves,  and  the  air  vibrates,  but  I  do 
not  know  how  that  makes  an  idea  pass  from  me 
to  you,  or  from  you  to  me.  Still  less  can  we 
guess  how  a  disembodied  spirit  can  commuii^ate 
with  flesh  and  blood. 

One  other  suggestion  may  be  made.  God  never 
employs  a  new  method,  that  is,  a  supernatural  one, 
when  an  old  method,  that  is,  a  natural  one,  will 
accomplish  the  object  he  has  in  view.  He  loves 
to  employ  the  simplest  measures.  The  same 
mathematical  curve,  which  governs  the  growth  of  a 
violet,  guides  the  stars  in  their  courses.  Follow- 
ing this  law,  we  should  expect  that  G.,  if  he 
wished  to  appear  to  Brougham,  would  not  reclothe 
himself  with  our  miserable  habiliments  of  flesh, 
but  would  simply  act  upon  Brougham's  brain  in  a 
way  to  produce  subjective  vision.  So  God  may 
act  upon  the  human  brain,  so  as  to  indicate  his 
presence  and  become  a  working  force  in  it,  with- 
out ever  assuming  a  gross  anthropomorphic  objec- 
tive form. 

The  following  dream  resembles  in  some  respects 
the  preceding  one,  and  illustrates  even  better  than 
that  the  method  which  the  brain  pursues  in  pro- 
ducing dreams :  — 

"  The  most  frequent  general  organic  condition  of  the 
sensory  apparatus  during  the  existence  of  hallucinations 
would  appear  to  be  one  of  congestion,  or  fulness  of 
blood.  A  circumstance  directly  illustrative  of  this  is 
related  in  the  'Psychological  Journal'  for  April,  1857, 
ds  occurring   to   the  writer  himself.      He   says :    '  We 


31  1  VISIONS. 

have  known  cases  of  ghost-seeing  when  wide  awake, 
which  have  been  cured  by  leeches  at  the  front  of  the 
forehead,  —  evidently  indicating  that  they  have  resulted 

from  a  congestive  state  of  the  perceptive  faculties 

We  were  on  a  visit  in ,  and  had  taken  more  wine 

than  usual.  It  was  the  summer-time,  and  the  weather 
very  hot  and  dry,  which  combined  sensations  rendered 

us  feverish  and  uncomfortable We  went  to  bed, 

but  not  to  sleep,  and  tossed  and  tumbled,  changing  our 
position  every  moment,  but  were  too  restless  to  repose ; 
at  length  we  turned  towards  the  window  and  perceived 
between  it  and  the  bed  a  short,  thick-set,  burly  figure, 
with  a  huge  head,  staring  us  in  the  face.  Certainly 
nothing  could  appear  more  real  or  substantial,  and  after 
gazing  on  this  monstrous  creature,  we  put  out  our  hand, 
when  he  opened  his  ponderous  jaws  and  bit  at  us.  We 
tried  various  experiments  with  the  creature,  —  such  as 
putting  our  hand  before  his  face,  which  seemed  to  cover 
a  part  of  it.  The  longer  we  contemplated  it,  the  more 
palpable  was  this  figure,  and  the  more  wrathful  were  its 
features.  Struck  with  the  apparent  reality  of  the  ap- 
parition, we  mechanically  felt  our  pulse ;  it  was  throb- 
bing at  a  fearful  rate ;  our  skin  was  hot  and  dry,  and 
the  temporal  arteries  were  throbbing  at  railway  speed. 
This  physical  condition  had  produced  the  phantom.  We 
then  jumped  out  of  bed,  when  the  spectre  seemed  to  be 
nearer  and  of  more  gigantic  proportions.  We  then 
threw  open  the  window  to  admit  a  little  more  air, 
sponged  our  head  and  body,  and  thus,  by  removing  the 
cause,  the  monster  disappeared.'  "  ^ 

The  second  class  of  dreams  or  medleys  is  illus- 
trated by  the  following  dream  taken  from  Wundt. 
1  A  Physician's  Problems.    Elam,  p.  284. 


VISIONS.  315 

"  I  am  able  to  illustrate  by  some  examples  this  inter- 
weaving of  various  causes  which  may  work  together  in 
such  a  way.  I  dreamt  that  a  funeral  procession  in 
which  I  was  to  take  part  stopped  before  my  house ;  it 
was  the  burial  of  a  friend  who  had  died  a  short  time 
previously.  The  wife  of  the  deceased  invited  me  and 
other  friends  to  place  ourselves  upon  the  other  side  of 
the  street  in  order  to  take  part  in  the  procession.  As 
we  went  out  an  acquaintance  remarked  she  only  said 
that  because  there  was  cholera  on  that  side  of  the  street 
and  she  wished  to  retain  this  side  for  herself.  Now  the 
dream  suddenly  changed  into  the  open  air.  I  found 
myself  in  long  and  irregular  by-ways  in  order  to  shun 
the  places  where  cholera  prevailed.  When  I  finally, 
after  straining  every  nerve  in  running,  had  reached  the 
house,  the  funeral  procession  had  departed.  But  still 
numerous  bouquets  of  roses  were  strewed  about  the 
street,  and  a  number  of  stragglers,  who  appeared  to  me 
in  my  dream  as  attendants  upon  the  funeral,  were  all 
like  myself  in  haste  to  rejoin  the  procession.  These 
funeral  attendants  formed  a  motley  crowd,  especially 
some  who  were  clad  in  red  clothing.  Whilst  I  hastened 
it  occurred  to  me  that  I  had  forgotten  a  wreath  which 
I  had  intended  to  lay  upon  the  coffin.  Thereupon,  I 
awakened  with  palpitation  of  the  heart." 


THE    END. 


14  DAY  USE 

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